January 2, 2010

“We found your sister.”

Luhan is now speeding through the freeway, the streetlights, the stars and the night sky passing him by in a surreal blur just as his life did these past few days. Detective Kim Minseok has just phoned him, telling him of the news. They found her. After a week of helplessly inquiring neighbors or possible passersby, sending out search parties and praying for the best, they found her. At last.

He tries to focus but it doesn’t happen, his mind deprives him the grace of sanity as it buzzed with question. How is she? What could be her condition? Who was responsible for such a heinous crime? Is someone still out to get her? Can I keep her safe? How will I tell her of Jongin’s death? Has detective Kim acquired new leads? God, I wish this car could go faster. He inwardly panics, his stomach churning from the irrepressible grind of thoughts.

The man trembles against the steering wheel, as images of his suffering sister bombard his mind: his sister violated. His sister beaten. His sister starved. His sister hopeless. At that instant, a car behind honks at him, curtly pulling the man out of his reverie. Pushing up his glasses that slipped down his nose, he hitches his breath, holding back the tears. Keep it together, Luhan! Your brother-in-law recently joined the grave with your parents. You can’t die now. You are what she has left. He tells himself off and for a moment, his mind silences. Luhan begins to feel better; he is rid of his worries and of his bane that he affords to smile.

But with a choke, his fortress crumbles. He swerves his car to the side (narrowly missing a different car whose driver cusses behind its glass window), steps on the brake, puts it into park and sobs. He sobs now while he is alone. He sobs now while no one can see. He sobs now so when he faces her, he is strong. His tears weren’t fully of pain but also of relief, relief that they have her. That she is alive. That she is safe. When he was sure he vented enough, he resumes driving.

*

Kim Junmyeon, the resident surgeon, arrives the lounging room where Luhan has been watching his coffee’s steam dance and hover above a Styrofoam cup. He immediately rises at the sight of the other man, all teal scrubs, surgical gloves and Crocs. He smelled strongly of antiseptic and faintly of blood that it briefly stuns Luhan as he pictures his sister lying on a cot, struggling to live. The doctor removes his medical cap and his mask, revealing his features that expressed utter exhaust and fatigue.

“Your sister will survive.” He manages to politely smile at him, beaming with assurance. “It wasn’t a cinch though. She was violated and drugged multiple times but not recently. She has broken quit