“I remain torn between thinking you're a terrible friend and thanking you for helping me sort out my grievances.”

Amélie shifted her focus from the hairdryer she was searching for in the back of the closet, while her wet locks dripped through the gaps in her robe, to look at Winnie sprawled on her bed, her blue strands covering one of the pillows, and a ball of orange gum peeking out from her lips.

Winnie had spent the whole morning bombarding her with messages about Hector. The two had met at Mints Bar last night, and Hector had apologized for not recognizing her immediately when they reunited, explaining everything about his conversation with Amélie. So, it was no surprise for Amélie to see Dr. Brown in the lobby of her building, waiting for her, as soon as Na-moo dropped her off at home.

Winnie was eager to share the conversation she had with Detective Brown after clearing up the misunderstanding between them. Of course, the woman with the blue locks, chewing gum with a mixture of a piercing and relieved look, wasn't the only one blowing up her phone with calls and messages.

Mayumi had called countless times to talk about Na-moo, after reading the message her stepdaughter sent her about delivering the blazer. Mayumi wanted to know every detail about their interaction, as well as the possibility of a second meeting, based on their desires, naturally.

Amélie decided not to tell her stepmother that she would be going out with him in the afternoon, not even when her father got on the line, inviting her to spend Saturday with them and share how her first day at the psychiatric clinic had been. Winnie served as her excuse to decline the invitation. Yan showed no trace of disappointment upon hearing his daughter's refusal, as he was so accustomed to hearing her come up with excuses to avoid such gatherings.

“I think I'll stick with gratitude. I don't know, I feel less like a fool knowing he was just a goofball who, despite everything, helped me without me knowing,” Winnie said, pulling Amélie out of her reverie. 

She blew the bubble once more before popping it and putting it back in her mouth. Then she continued, “I've decided to try to establish a 'friendship' between him and me.”

“I'm glad to hear that. I hope it works out. Hector seems like a nice guy.”

“I hope so too,” Winnie straightened up, pursing her lips. “Now that I think about it, Hector didn't have a family. He was a lonely guy and lived in an orphanage, so he must have sought affection and attention elsewhere…”

“Wait, what did you say?” Amélie turn back to face her friend. “Detective Brown is an orphan? You never told me that during our venting sessions.”

“I didn't think it was relevant,” Winnie shrugged. “He and Yohan are orphans. Minho, I only found out recently, after we became friends. I'm not exactly sure about both their stories, but the gossip among the students was that Hector lost his parents when he was still young, so he grew up in an orphanage. Yohan, from what I heard, came to Longino after being adopted by a wealthy old man with no heirs.”

Winnie rested her arms behind her neck and bit her lip, as if trying to remember something.

“Most people assumed he was the illegitimate child of Mr. Minho, and consequently, he decided to bring him to live with him after his wife's death. In fact, the place where the bar was built is part of the properties he inherited from his adoptive father when he passed away. However, all I know for sure is that Yohan was adopted by the old man shortly before he died. Yohan mentioned this to me in one of our conversations. The details I just provided are mere speculations from people.”

“How do you find out about these things? I feel like I've been living in a bubble, because I've never heard of any of this.”

“You didn't go to school here, and you don't keep in touch with the old ladies, the biggest gossip source, so of course you wouldn't know the stories that circulate in the neighborhood. Besides, the story about Minho is gossip my mother knits with her friends on Sunday afternoons. When I visit her, it's impossible not to overhear what they're saying; they speak loudly and with voices like bamboo splitting!”

Amélie's features tightened into a half-smile, and her fingers brushed the damp strands back.

“We're going out tonight. Hector and me, I mean,” Winnie grinned, changing the subject. “We're going to the movies, very cliché. And what about you and Na-moo? I can't decide what surprises me more: him inviting you out, or that you kissed him.”

Amélie sighed, finally finding the hairdryer. She walked over to the mirror and plugged it in.

“I was drunk, and it wasn't a real kiss, I've already told you. It was just a peck on his lips, and that can't even be considered a kiss, according to you.”

“No, it definitely can't. It's way too dull. But you didn't answer my question.”

Amélie rolled her eyes.

“I don't know where we're going, he didn't say.”

Winnie continued to ask questions about what she had talked about with Na-moo in his apartment, about his involvement with the blonde who showed up unexpectedly at the detective's apartment, whom—according to Dr. Brown—was dismissed thanks to Amélie. Winnie seemed to be studying her with her eyes slightly narrowed, through the reflection in the mirror as she dried her hair.

Although she answered the questions from the woman sitting on her bed, chewing a new colorful gum, Amélie's mind was far away. Her racing heart only allowed one thing to occupy her thoughts: the date she would have with Na-moo in three hours.

✛✛

Na-moo activated the windshield wipers just as the traffic light switched from yellow to red. The rain caused the windows of the Chevrolet to fog up due to the stifling air. The traffic was ridiculously congested due to the bad weather. Saturdays were usually a terrible day to travel from Longino to the airport or bus terminal in the neighboring city; it seemed like every car in town took that route on weekends.

He held back a curse and rested one hand on his chin while the other remained on the steering wheel. He glanced at his mother, seated in the passenger seat. Yvone Hwang had fairer skin than him, and Na-moo had inherited little from her—most of his features resembled his father's, whereas Seung was a male version of their mother when she was young.

Despite the toll time had taken, Mrs. Hwang remained beautiful in the eyes of her youngest son. Her once jet-black hair was now gray from the roots down about four centimeters. She had mentioned during the meal they shared that she was letting her hair grow to try something that Ji-hye, Seung's wife's mother, did with her own hair—something that supposedly helped reduce the need for frequent dyeing, a topic Na-moo didn't quite grasp as he wasn't particularly interested in hair treatments.

The woman sighed, feeling the weight of her son's gaze, her lips forming a petulant pout, accentuating the wrinkles at the corners of her eyelids and lips.

The traffic light turned green, and Na-moo shifted his gaze away, steering to the left. They were almost at the airport, just six blocks away.

Na-moo wouldn't see his mother for the next two weeks, and worse, he wouldn't be present for her birthday, yet another reason not to let her go to his older son's house with the upset expression she wore. Even though he didn't want to bring up the topic that Mrs. Hwang had broached while they ate together, he wanted his mother to leave with a smile after giving him an affectionate peck on the forehead—as she always did when she visited Seung without him, or when she came to see him in the apartment where he lived.

He took in a deep breath of the scent of naphthalene emanating from the car and watched as raindrops trailed down the glass, scattered by the windshield wipers.

“Cheer up, Mom. We're almost there.”

“Oh, come on! This is the only face I have, my son!”

Na-moo pressed his lips together and glanced at her quickly.

“Mrs. Hwang, that blind date you set me up on didn't go well, but I don't want to tell you the reason it happened because, coincidentally, the girl you arranged for me turned out to be my new coworker.”

Yvone abruptly turned in her seat, her eyes wide.

“Seriously?!”

“Yes.”

“So? What happened?! Tell me before your mother has a heart attack!”

He shook his head, letting out a long sigh.

“I'll tell you, if…” she leaned forward, her eyebrows raised like her grandchildren's did whenever they saw their uncle arrive at their house with bags of toys. “If you stay with Seung and Joo-hyun for as long as they ask.”

“Is it just me, or do you want to get rid of me, Na-moo Hwang?”

“Never. I just think you need some time with your grandchildren, and they need some time with their grandmother. Don't you always say that Do-yoon and Soraya are in the best phase of childhood?”

She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him suspiciously.

“I've known you since you were a little sprout in my womb, Moo. Why don't you come with me? I understand you have work, but you could come back on Sunday night and start a bit later on Monday.”

This was another topic that Na-moo tried to avoid…, but he had no choice. He would have to choose one of the topics that interested her if he wanted to avoid the other.

He couldn't avoid both without Yvone leaving in a huff.

“I have a date today.”

“What?! A date?”

“Yes” he nodded, “one that I arranged myself.”

“You asked someone out? What a miracle! Who's the luck…” Yvone stopped talking and stared at her son, her eyes practically popping out of her face. “Don't tell me it's with the girl…”

“From the blind date? My new coworker? That's right. I asked her out.”

“Oh, Moo!” Yvone leaned in and planted a loud kiss on her son's cheek.

The exaggerated reaction might have been what other mothers would do if they heard their child say they'd won the lottery, but his mother acted with exuberance over the date arranged by her own son.

Mrs. Hwang rambled aloud about the plans they should make to introduce Amélie to Seung and Joo-hyun—not to mention the kids—and spoke with such conviction, her eyes sparkling as if she'd gained a new daughter-in-law; that anyone listening would think the two were considering getting engaged in the near future.

Exactly what Na-moo feared most from his mother.

However, the news of his first unarranged date left her so distracted and excited that he found himself smiling as he drove.

So, he decided to let her dream for the rest of the journey, rather than impose limits on her fantasies.

✛✛

The suburban streets were deserted as the curly-haired girl, with hair reaching her shoulders, opened the umbrella and unlatched the gate of the yellow-walled house. The flashy shade was something she detested, but it had been her younger sister's choice, and Grandma indulged her without hesitation.

It was only when she started walking along the sidewalk that the young woman realized a thick fog had blanketed the neighborhood. The nearest bus stop was two blocks away, and even under the umbrella, her shirt was beginning to dampen at the back.

She cursed herself for swapping shifts at the bar with one of her colleagues. It hadn't even been ten minutes of walking, and she was already almost entirely soaked. Sighing, she lifted the umbrella a bit to try and see through the mist that surrounded her.

The sound of an engine roared nearby. The girl discreetly turned her head to the side, just in time to see a utility vehicle approaching. The car slowed down as it neared the sidewalk. The windows were too dark for her to see who was behind the wheel. She tried to identify the make and the license plate. She wouldn't be surprised if it was Yohan Minho. He passed by occasionally and offered a ride whenever he saw her walking in the rain.

However, if that was her boss, he would have already rolled down the windows.

The street was deserted. She and the driver—whoever it was—were the only living souls under the furious clouds. The girl took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. She dialed a number from her contacts list without really looking at who it was, and turned left at the first corner she passed.

The alley was too narrow for a car to pass through, so the driver wouldn't be able to follow her anymore.

“Hello? Hayley?” Tarley's voice echoed in her ears, reminding her that she had called him.

With a quick glance, she peered over her shoulder. The utility vehicle continued down the street, and its sound slowly faded away.

Hayley exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. Her heart still raced, and it would probably only stabilize once she caught the bus.

“Hayley?”

“Sorry, Tarley, I thought…”

A shiver ran down her neck, behind her nape.

The rain muffled the sound of her footsteps on the pavement. Similarly, she couldn't hear any sounds around her. Hayley discreetly glanced back, pretending to take her backpack off to grab something.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a hooded figure following her, hands in the pockets of a black hoodie. His face was obscured by the hood and the mask he wore.

She quickened her pace, swallowing hard.

“Tarley, someone's following me,” she whispered, trembling.

“What? Where are you, Hay—”

A scream escaped Hayley's mouth as something grabbed her hair, yanking her back forcefully.

The girl staggered. The heel of her left foot twisted when she tried to stand her ground. Tarley's voice still called from the other end of the line, but her fingers held the phone precariously. She couldn't move enough to speak.

Hayley dug her nails into the hand that obstructed her breath, trying, futilely, to free herself. But she felt something damp, with a strong odor, suffocating her. The grip around her tightened, and her vision began to blur.

The world spun around her, and a ringing buzzed in her ears seconds before the phone slipped from her fingers and her muscles went limp.

The rain stopped falling, or perhaps it continued to fall, but everything around Hayley got dark.