Shinhye scurried home with her bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm, huffing a little as the weight of her backpack tipped her balance slightly. Since that brief encounter with Yonghwa in the morning, she hadn’t seen him again, not even in class. Even though they never talked in class often to begin with, it just seemed weird that his desk beside the large windowsill was vacant. It left a strange void that poked Shinhye’s curiosity every now and then. Shaking away her thoughts, she fumbled for her keys while struggling to keep the flowers secure under her arm. The front door opened without her even touching the doorknob and she was greeted with a warm smile.

            “I never knew someone could be so loud just looking for keys.” He joked, holding the door open for Shinhye as she bowed before entering. He and his wife were her guardians and treated her like a daughter. Her real parents were called to Japan for work and even considered putting her up for adoption, but to avoid all the trouble the couple decided to take her under their wing. She had grown up with their familiar faces and found the transitioning quite smooth; so much that she seldom missed her biological parents. The two seemed to never age in Shinhye’s eyes, and she wondered why they never brothers having children of their own. Of course, she never had the heart to ask.

            “Pretty flowers,” Her ‘dad’ complimented with a smile, but his eyes showed hints of suspicion. It seemed like a natural fatherly impulse to ask, and she had nothing to hide so rather than letting him assume some secret relationship existed, she decided to go with the truth.

            “Someone at school gave them to me. His name’s Kang Minhyuk.” She smiled, grabbing a vase from under the sink and filling it with lukewarm tap water. She had no experience with caring for flowers so she had a feeling they would die in a matter of days regardless of what she did, but for the time being they were red, blossoming, and beautiful. She smiled at her masterpiece and placed it on the dining table to compliment the tablecloth. Shinhye had been so captivated by the roses that she almost missed her dad’s changing expression. He eyed the flowers with a genuine scrutinizing stare; his eyes seemed lost in his own world.

            “Kang Minhyuk, you said?” He asked to clarify. It seemed like he was trying to put pieces of a puzzle together, and Shinhye was completely clueless.

            “Ne, Kang Minhyuk. He’s a new student from America or something.” She continued to mumble, bringing more suspicion to her father. To him, their names were too familiar to be a coincidence. Kang wasn’t a really popular surname in Seoul, and with their names being just one character apart made even less sense. He wished that age didn’t rob him of his once detailed memory, but he heard of a rumored grandson escaping to America days after the assassination. The memories weren’t completely lost, but rather, hidden in a chamber in the hands of his sub conscious. Now it seemed the past was coming back to haunt him.

            Shinhye had left without another word to her room, probably to do homework or chat on the phone with Hyomin. He sat adjacent to the vase of roses, his eyes flaming at the bloody shade of red. Unlocking the doors to his past took more concentration than he could afford, and he never noticed when his wife came back from her usual errands.

            “Yongguk-sshi; why the long face?” She smiled teasingly, massaging her husband’s shoulders caringly as she followed his gaze to the roses. She immediately froze.

            “These roses—“

            “I think they’re back, Sunhwa.” He cut her off before she could finish, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need telepathy to know that their thoughts were exactly the same, their suspicions identical. They hoped that with time, they would be proven delusional and wrong, but until then, Shinhye could very well be in danger. In no louder than a deep, husky whisper, Yongguk asked,

            “Kang Minwoo had an unregistered grandson, didn’t he?” The name brought chills down both their spines. It was a name that had been forbidden to leave their lips ever since they made a brief disappearance from society, but now the topic was unavoidable.

            “Before they fled Korea, it was announced that Minjung was pregnant. Why?” She needed to hear his assumptions out loud before she could bear the truth.

          “The name Kang Minwoo seems fitting, doesn’t it? He’s nineteen years old and goes to school with Shinhye.” He continued in his deep voice. Sunhwa looked as if a dagger has pierced her heart, her right hand involuntarily rising to cover her gasping lips.

            “Nineteen? It can’t all be a coincidence…”

            “It’s been fifteen years, around the time we took in Shinhye that they stopped rearing their ugly heads.” He continued with a slight snarl.

            “The investment fraud took four years to recover from, faster than they anticipated but we’re still forced to hide low. Every year you see the same articles about Jung Seunghyun, but the whereabouts of his descendents are still unknown. The public stopped searching and deemed his family line dead. This is exactly what they wanted.” Sunhwa reasoned; her eyes still wide with shock as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Even the colors of the roses were starting to make her dizzy.

            “It has to be them. These roses are their family emblem.” Yongguk continued to eye them. He knew without a doubt, the only bushes able to spring such bloody roses were the ones outside the long deserted house of their sworn enemies.

            “Need help with dinner?” Shinhye came back downstairs, grabbing for her apron before anyone even responded. Sunhwa gave the roses one last glance before turning to Shinhye with an agreeable grin.

            “The vegetables have your name on it.” Her eyes pointed to a bag of carrots on the kitchen counter. Shinhye graciously headed towards the bag and washed then diligently. She noticed them exchanging worried glances, occasionally looking back at her with a sigh. Something weird was going on.

            “What were you two discussing earlier?” She decided to break the awkward silence, grabbing a knife from the drawer and testing the sharpness with her finger carefully.

            “It’s nothing, dear. Nice flowers you brought,” Sunhwa was quick to change the subject, but it didn’t have the effect she had wished for.

            “Ah, so that’s what you’re wondering about? Kang Minhyuk? We’re not together or anything.” Shinhye stated immediately, guessing that they had already made that assumption like Hyomin had. They exchanged stares again, and then smiled back at her.

            “Of course, I believe you.” Sunhwa nodded, reaching for a saucepan they stored in the oven when it wasn’t in use. Shinhye couldn’t tell whether it was sarcasm or not, but decided to shrug. She said what she had wanted, and whether they believed her or not was their problem.

            “You two seem strange today.” She finally admitted, unable to brush off the awkward tension any longer. They were eating for less than five minutes and already it seemed like their stares were burning holes into her. Yongguk coughed in response, and Sunhwa chuckled a bit, taking a drink of water.

            “Can I ask you both something?” She decided she would finally try to get some answers. She never questioned their hospitality or kindness before, but now she felt almost a need to know. They nodded and gave their full attention to her.

            “Why don’t you two have your own children?” She blurted, regretting her wording almost immediately after. Her question seemed too direct. If she had only thought about it longer maybe it wouldn’t have sounded so offensive, but their expression never darkened.

            “We have one…” Sunhwa admitted, decided that she couldn’t hide it from Shinhye forever. Shinhye almost choked on her water when she heard. This was a scenario she hadn’t imagined.

            “You do?” She asked, flustered. Yongguk nodded and explained further,

            “He should be about your age by now…” It felt heartbreaking just reminding them of a future they practically threw away. They lived in a household filled with many secrets, and each time a secret was revealed it felt like a burden was lifted off their shoulders, but the panging hurt from the guilt of their unchangeable decisions still haunt them the same, but now more loudly now that it was brought out in the open.

            “He? You’ve had a son for nineteen years, but where is he?” She felt compelled to continue digging further, but it was hurting her heart by just trying to sympathize. Her two parents kept this burden amongst themselves for the fifteen years they’ve been together, and she was too lousy of a daughter to even try to mend the wounds. Her mother’s loving gaze was filling with silent tears.

            “We don’t know.” Yongguk confessed boldly, his voice weaker than usual.

            “Have you tried to look for him?” Their shaking heads spoke loudly enough, and she decided to stop for today. They sat there in silence for another two minutes before Shinhye got up to clean the tables. Yongguk stayed seated, hugging Sunhwa tightly as she tried to cease her tears. Through the glass flower vase, Shinhye could see their distorted frowns, and her heart broke into two. They wanted to see their son again. She needed to find him somehow.

A/N: I don't think my sentence structure was as good in this chapter. It felt a little like a off day for writing, mainly because school killed me today but I felt drawn to write. I miss it too much. So here's another chapter. It's meant to be a little confusing, but that's how all mystery stories are. ^^;; Enjoy!