She replayed that day over and over again in her head, repeating silently to herself what Sehun and Kai had told her. There were several families involved, and hers had been one of them, until the council had eliminated the ones that knew. The ones they eliminated included her parents, and now she wanted to join this revolution for more than just the fact that the council was cruel to its people. She wanted to join to avenge her parents’ death.

Eunji suffered through a coughing fit on her way back to the house she lived in with Jiwon.

Jiwon. He was on the council’s side, and he always was. She should have known; he always did everything in his power that he could to please the council. Eunji resented him a little for it, though she knew why.

She had promised Kai and Sehun, before she left, that she would not speak of the matter to anyone, but she had to at least bring it up with Jiwon. She had to demand who his true allegiance was to. She had to figure out if he would help, if he would join the revolution, if he would turn her in.

“Jiwon,” she mumbled, something twisting inside her stomach. She had never felt so nervous about anything before. She hadn’t even felt this way when she had run into the boys at the abandoned house; not even when she was almost caught going back to retrieve her bag.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was in love with him that made her feel so sick with worry and fear. She feared that he would reject her idea; that he would reject her.

She had never asked him about his feelings. They had never discussed anything of the sort; there must have been no need to. All she knew was that she was in love with him, and there was a revolution going on possibly right under his nose, and she was going to ask him to do something that would probably ruin whatever relationship they had for good.

Calm down, she told herself. You’re probably getting yourself worked up over nothing. Maybe she was.

When she stepped into her house, she looked around for any sign of Jiwon being home. A book was laid open on its pages on one of the tables in the front hall. He was home.

She walked with a shaky step into the living room, where she found Jiwon sitting in a chair near the fireplace. His chin was resting on his hands, which were clasped together. He was leaning forward, his elbows places on his knees, and there was a very serious expression resting on his face.

Eunji worried that it was probably not the time to be mentioning things like revolution to him. He looked worried; scared.

“Are you okay?” she asked him. Jiwon jumped slightly, straightening a little and looking up a