The next morning, Lia awoke to the smell of smoke in the air. She blinked a few times, unsure of whether she was imagining the smell, but frowned curiously when she verified that something, in fact, was burning.

Hopping off of her bed and treading lightly through the door and down the steps, she made her way to the kitchen, where she encountered a rather disturbing scene.

Detective Park stood in front of the stove, shrieking wildly as she waves a towel at the smoke billowing from the pan. Lia stood for a moment, unsure exactly of what was happening, but rushed forward hurriedly as she realized that either she fixed the problem, or she let Park burn the house down.

In an instant she grabbed the towel from Park, turning the stove completely off and moving the pan to one of the cool areas on the stove. She smothered the pan quickly, wading up the towel so that there was enough space that she could press down on the pan without getting burnt, then moved the pan to the sink. Turning on the water, she slowly scrubbed at the pan, making sure that all the oil was gone as she let the water cool the pan.

With a sigh she released her grip on the pan and towel, turning back to an astonished Park. "What were you doing?" she breathed, glaring at her with wide blue eyes.

"Well," Park began, "I was trying to cook some pancakes for breakfast, to cheer you up, and I put the oil on-"

"Wait," Lia interrupted, giving her an incredulous look, "You used oil for pancakes?"

Park hesitated, giving her an unsure look. "Aren't you supposed to?"

Lia sighed. "Pan spray. You use pan spray." She coughed, looking at the stove dial as a realization struck her. "How high did you have it turned up?"

"Huh, oh," Detective Park muttered, following Lia's gaze to the temperature dial. "All the way up."

Lia scoffed, putting her head in her hands and giving way to a long, drawn out groan. "Don't cook anymore," she begged. "Please, do not cook. I'll do it."

Park nodded numbly, backing away as Lia took over.

Half an hour later, a stack of delicious-looking pancakes piled on a plate in the middle of the table. Lia chuckled at the wide-eyed expression coming from Park, who beamed in astonishment at the food.

"Where'd you learn to make these?" Park asked as she began to dig into her stack.

"My mom and I used to make them a lot when I was little," Lia explained, slicing up her stack as well. "Although, she made them much better than I do. She had more experience, being from America and all."

"Still, these are amazing," Park protested, with delight.

Lia shrugged, taking a small bite. She wished for a fraction of a moment that her mother could taste them, but she dismissed the thought quickly. Don’t think about it, she told herself.

"So," Park said through a full mouth, "How are you liking it here?"

Lia looked up, blinking slowly. "I'm getting used to it," she answered, going back to eating.

Detective Park laughed faintly. "It's pretty here, isn't it?"

Lia nodded absently, mainly focused on eating.

"Oh, by the way," Park continued, drawing Lia's attention away from her plate once more, "I'd better go and introduce you to the neighbors. They've lived here since I was a little kid. They've got a son around your age, I'm pretty sure." She smiled broadly. "He's a handsome thing, that kid. I watched him grow up."

Lia looked at her curiously. "Why do I have to meet them?" she asked.

"Because, it'll be awhile before you get to go to America, and you might as well meet your neighbors instead of ignoring them during your whole stay. Besides, it'll help to have a friend."

Oh, Lia thought, this is for me. She looked back down at her plate, no longer hungry, and carried it over to the trash. Dumping out the contents, she brought it over to the sink to wash it, but Park rushed up to stop her. "No, I'll do it," she insisted, snatching the plate from Lia's hands. "You can make the food, and I'll do the dishes."

Lia gave her a discerning look, and Park threw her hands up in defense. "I won’t burn anything!" she shouted indignantly. "I don’t think that's even possible!"

"I feel like you'd be the one to find a way," Lia said with a frown, turning away and making her way back to her room.

 

---

 

Lia groaned loudly, glaring at the house in front of them. "I don't want to meet them," she protested. "They won't like me."

"Stop it," Park said lightly, nudging her shoulder. "I've known these people all my life. They're probably some of the nicest - if not the nicest - people on the planet. They'll love you."

With a resigning sigh, Lia trailed behind Detective Park as she made her way to the porch. She knocked on the door lightly. "Mr. and Mrs. Kim, it's me, Park Soojin. I've brought Lia with me," she called from outside the door, and soon an excited clamor erupted from inside the house.

The door flew open, revealing a bright looking middle-aged woman. She smiled at Detective Park and Lia with warm eyes that crinkled on the sides. "Soojin-ah," she chimed, embracing Park warmly. "How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Busy. Things have been hectic down at the station recently."

"Oh, you poor thing," Mrs. Kim said sympathetically as her eyes caught Lia standing somewhat behind Park. "You must be Lia!"

Lia bowed deeply, avoiding eye contact. "Hello, Ma'am," she mumbled, clearing awkwardly.

Unexpectedly, Lia was wrapped in a tight embrace, her face smothered against Mrs. Kim. "Oh, you're just adorable!" Mrs. Kim squealed, swaying Lia back and forth. "I wish you were my daughter!"

"Honey, leave her be," someone said from within the doorway. Mrs. Kim let go and turned around, revealing her husband, who was giving her an exasperated yet loving look. "Look at how scared she is; you almost smothered her."

"I did not!" she protested, pouting at her husband. "Besides, I've always wanted a daughter, and she's just so . . ." Mrs. Kim trailed off, wrapping Lia in another bone-cracking hug.

"Come on, dear," her husband mumbled, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her gently back into the house. "Go ahead and come in, you two," he said to Detective Park and Lia. "Don't mind my wife, Lia. She'd just excited to meet you."

Lia nodded slowly, stepping into the house behind Park.

"I'll call my son down. I think you two will get along well," he spoke to Lia, giving her a kind smile. "Jongin!" he called, and Lia started.

"Jongin?" she echoed, and Mr. Kim nodded.

"Our son. Oh, here he comes," he said as someone raced down the stairs. "Jongin, come meet our new neighbor Lia!"

A boy emerged from the stairwell, looking rather curious. He jumped as he say Lia, pointing a long finger at her. "You!" he shouted in surprise.

"You!" Lia echoed. "You're that kid from before!"

"Jongin?" Mrs. Kim called to him curiously. Obviously, everyone but Lia and Jongin were rather confused at their unorthodox greeting. "Do you know Lia from somewhere?"

He nodded vigorously. "She's the one I told you about! The one I ran into while on that school trip!"

Mr. Kim looked at Lia with an expression of disbelief. "You're the one that almost got hit by that car!" he realized. "Why were you out so late? Weren't your parents worried?"

Lia's eyes were wide as she remembered that night. She shouldn't have been out. She should've stayed home. She should've done something. She should've . . .

She felt herself begin to sway. For some reason, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Her gaze landed on Detective Park, who was looking at her with worry. "Lia, are you alright?" she heard Park say, but it didn't sound right. All the noise sounded warped, like everyone was talking backwards.

The room began to tilt, and her view flipped sideways as she fell to the ground. The noise was drowned now, like she was underwater, and everything was blurry. Black and white shaped scurried in front of her, then everything went dead.

 

---

 

Suddenly, everything rushed back to her.

Noise filled her ears as she snapped into consciousness, and she sat up quickly, her eyes darting around wildly. Slowly, the memory of what happened came back to her, and she mentally kicked herself. Why did she faint? It's not like anything really happened.

Just as she sat up, something stirred beside her. Her head snapped around, catching Jongin arousing from his apparent nap. "You're awake?" he mumbled drowsily, stretching with a groan. "Thought you'd never wake up."

"Where am I?" she asked hesitantly, gazing around the unfamiliar bed.

"Our guest bedroom. We didn't know what to do, since you just . . . collapsed," he said, waving his arms in an odd gesture.

"Oh," Lia muttered, looking down awkwardly.

Jongin sighed softly. "Sorry about my parents," he apologized, and Lia's head shot up. "I don't know if you fainted because they were stressing you out or something, but they're just very familiar people."

Lia shook her head slowly. "No, it wasn't because of that."

Leaning back into his chair, Jongin gave her a long, regarding stare. "Did something happen that night? When I met you?"

She looked away, turning her gaze to the wall beside her.

"I know we barely know each other, but if it makes it any easier, do you want to talk about it?"

Clearing , Lia's eyes bored into her lap. "It was nice," she said simply.

"What was?"

"Your mother, she reminded me of my mom." Jongin gave her a puzzled look, and she further explained. "The night that I met you, my . . . my mom . . . she . . ." Lia choked, unable to say the words. "She died. That's why I'm here," she said, looking up at Jongin. "I have nowhere else to go."

Jongin cast his glance down, frowning. "I'm sorry."

"When you mentioned what happened with the car," she continued, "I kept thinking about how I should've been home. If I had been home, maybe I could've done something . . . anything . . ." she trailed off, her voice wavering.

There was a long pause, until Jongin finally said something. "Stop doing that?"

Snapped out of her daze, Lia regarded him in bewilderment. "Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself."

Lia breathed sharply, her eyes wide.

"Lia, it wasn't your fault. And there's nothing you could've done if you'd been home. You would've just ended up dead as well, and I don't think your mother would've wanted that," he reasoned.

Her wide eyes cast around the room, his words resounding within her head. He was right, after all. Had she actually thought that she would be better off dead? Only now did she realize how selfish she'd been over the past days.

She lowered her head against her knees, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you," she sobbed, regardless of whether or not he cared.

To her surprise, she felt a hand on her back, rubbing in a circular motion. "It's okay," he said softly. "It's okay."

And with that, she let herself cry.