The Past, Seoul

Grief is not a straight line. As the months passed, I stumbled through my grief in one direction and then another until I’d lost all sense of direction, treading over the same paths again and again no matter how much I tried to avoid my pain. 

Once enough time had passed for Liminal to fall out of the headlines, Yun Seo brought his co-conspirators together and set us the task of targeting multiple members of the Gihoe Society at the same time. He was worried that the society would see us coming if we tried the same tactics we had used before. By striking on several fronts at once, his hope was that they wouldn’t be able to anticipate everything, but we had to work quickly and in concert to have the best odds of success.

While I understood Yun Seo’s intention in bringing us all together, I stubbornly refused to collaborate with anyone. I’d been anxious to meet these mysterious other people in Yun Seo’s employ, but once I was in a room with them I could only see them as my competition. Hi Ah had been kind to me and I knew In Ho would always have my back, but In Ho had already done his part in gathering dossiers on the remaining members of the Gihoe Society and Hi Ah seemed to know quite a few people already so she had no trouble finding partners. 

I decided to work on my own, choosing the most reclusive member of the Gihoe Society, Dae Hak Kun. In Ho hadn’t identified any specific weaknesses for him yet, so I had no victims to contact and persuade. All I could do was investigate him until something came to light. The financial expert of the group, Dae likely knew exactly where all the society’s bodies were buried, but he was not flashy like the others. Stoic and withdrawn, he had no obvious passions beyond his work and followed his routines with studious consistency. 

Growing bored of waiting for him to slip up or do something unexpected, I decided to turn my attention to his wife, hoping that in the way of most couples, she would be the social butterfly to his quiet recluse, and reveal something through her behavior. Unfortunately, Jo Soo Yeon was not as different from her husband as I had hoped and although she varied her routines, they were still predictable in their own way. She played tennis with friends at least once a week and went shopping when it rained. Her work on the boards of several charitable organizations dictated the rest of her schedule during the week and on the weekends they both attended social events together except for her ladies brunch once a month with friends.

Frustrated by my lack of progress, I started getting bolder, sitting at tables near Jo Soo Yeon at the cafe so I could listen to her conversations and following her into stores when she was shopping for her husband. I had a face that blended into the background and I wore nondescript clothing, so I tended to disappear in any crowd, especially with the hooded windbreaker I wore whenever Jo Soo Yeon did her rainy day shopping. Jo Soo Yeon wasn’t the type to pay much attention to her surroundings, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead when she walked and on whatever she was doing otherwise, so I started taking more risks.

I learned she was more observant than I gave her credit for when she turned around to face me one day after putting in her order at the coffee shop. The crowd was thin at that time of day and I’d been forced to join the line behind her, but I’d kept my eyes focused on my phone, my face still partially obscured by the hood of my jacket.

“What would you like?” she asked me, her expression placid even though her painted fingers clutched at her purse with obvious anxiety.

“Huh?” I glanced up at her to confirm she was actually talking to me.

“Your order,” she said, nodding toward the barista waiting at the register. “Don’t you think it’s about time we have a chat?”

I asked for black coffee and waited while she paid, trying not to let my own unease show. 

She led us to a table by the windows that overlooked the street below, her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched me sit down across from her. “I assume you’ve been following me because of my husband?”

I dipped my head in a slight nod. 

“You’re better than most. I didn’t even notice you at first.” Her lips curled at the corners with wry amusement. “But being more competent than the other people who have been assigned to follow me only tells me that you weren’t hired by any of the other members of the society.”

The triumphant look in her eyes told me she’d registered my surprise even though I’d been doing my best to hide my reaction. When the barista called out our orders I stood up. “I’ll get our drinks,” I said, grateful for a chance to collect myself without her steady gaze studying me. “Cream or sugar?”

“Just a splash of cream.”

When I returned, I asked, “Why would your husband’s colleagues’ have you followed?”

Taking a sip, she looked out the window, peering past the condensation blurring the glass at the drizzly street beyond, but she didn’t seem to be seeing either. “My husband holds the keys to their finances,” she said in a pensive murmur. “They trust him even less than they trust each other. They know he could ruin them all with a single stroke.” Turning to smile at me with more sincerity, she added, “His position within the society is tenuous and they are always looking for leverage to keep him in line.”

She traced a finger over the pattern painted on the saucer of her cup. “They won’t find any. My husband is dismally boring.”

“That’s why they started targeting you?”

“Of course.” Flashing teeth at me, she took another drink, the steam from her cup obscuring her gaze. “That’s why you’re following me, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t argue with that. Taking a drink of my own coffee, I tried to taste the flavor but found it flat and bitter. I didn’t know whether I should blame my lack of sleep or missing Chan Wook’s cooking for the fact that I hadn’t enjoyed eating or drinking much since I’d moved out of the house. 

“You work for Jang Yun Seo, don’t you?”

Blinking at her, I tried to decide how to respond, but she didn’t give me a chance to answer.

“He’s the one goading people into revealing all of our secrets on that app of his.”

I remained silent, refusing to confirm her assumptions.

“Well, you won’t find anyone willing to sell me out. Or my husband. We’re not like the others. We’re good people.”

I could feel my eyebrows making their way up my forehead, but I decided not to say anything. Jo Soo Yeon didn’t seem to have any trouble saying everything on her own.

She sighed and pushed her cup of coffee away from her slightly so that she could fold her arms on the edge of the table. “What happened to Jang Yun Seo was terrible. His father has no conscience whatsoever, and I know that his mother must have suffered terribly because of what his father took from her.”

Hiding my surprise with another sip of tasteless coffee, I did my best to keep my expression neutral. I’d never heard any of this before. Stories about Yun Seo’s father had always been vague, and while Yun Seo had often mentioned setting things right and reclaiming what was taken, he had never shared any details. I hadn’t realized that what had been taken had belonged to his mother, for example, or that his father had been responsible for the loss.

“Unlike the others, we haven’t abused what we were given,” she continued, giving me an imploring look. “We didn’t use her power to gain wealth or influence. I only used it to survive.” Unbuttoning the top button of her shirt, she tugged at a gold chain around her neck and pulled out a pendant to show me. The gem hanging heavily on the chain was strange. Milky and iridescent, it practically glowed even in the overcast light. At first I thought it was an opal, but as I watched, the patterns beneath its surface moved, swirling slowly like the weather patterns on the face of a planet. As I studied it, I realized it was exactly the same size and shape as the stone that was missing from the necklace In Ho’s wife had designed.

“The very year the Gihoe Society was formed, I was diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease,” Jo Soo Yeon said in a quiet, reverent tone. “It’s been in remission ever since I started wearing this stone. I know it belongs to her, but it’s been keeping me alive for years. I won’t give it back.” 

Tucking the necklace away again, she leaned back in her chair. “That is our only secret. It will do you no good where the public is concerned." Meeting my eyes again with a lift of her chin, she added, “You can tell him that. He can try to ruin our reputation, but he will fail. And if he wants this gem back, he’ll have to wait until I’m dead.” Her voice shook a little at the end and I realized that in spite of her seeming confidence in confronting me, she was afraid. 

“I’ll tell him,” I said finally. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“That’s it?” she asked as I pulled my hood back over my head and pushed the chair back to leave. Her eyes were wide now, all pretense of composure gone.

“Did you expect me to try to take it from you or something?”

She clutched at the necklace through her shirt. “Maybe. Or worse.”

“I’ve been following you for a while now and never made a move to hurt you.”

“Yes, but you didn’t know I had the stone with me.”

I sighed. “To be honest, I didn’t know anything about it. Jang Yun Seo doesn’t share details like that with people at my level.” The words hurt to say because of how true they were. 

Tilting her head to the side, she frowned. “Does he treat you well?”

The question caught me off guard. “What?”

She bit her lower lip. “People who have been abused often abuse others. I wouldn’t have asked, but there’s something gentle about you. Something kind. And you look so sad.”

Abuse. The word hung in the air with the weight of a rotten fruit dangling from a tree. I’d known Yun Seo’s childhood had been painful, and some of the things he’d said had made me suspect something like abuse, but I’d never asked questions or dug deep enough to learn the truth. I wondered if Na Rae knew. If she’d witnessed it, whatever it was. Had she been abused as well? I shivered and shook the horrid thoughts away.

“He pays me well,” I said finally. 

“I didn’t ask you if he –”

Standing up, I said, “If it was up to me, I would let you keep it.” I nodded at the hidden necklace she was still covering with a hand. “And we would leave you alone.”

“But it isn’t up to you, is it?” Her lips tightened with a bitter smile.

I hesitated, wishing I could give her some kind of reassurance. “Your husband keeps the books for most of the members of the Gihoe Society.”

“No,” she said sharply. “He will never betray his professional ethics.”

“Think about it. Maybe there’s still something he could offer that would help balance the scales.” I felt dirty saying the words, knowing that this was my job and that I was only doing what Yun Seo expected me to do. 

“Perhaps I was wrong about you,” she said faintly, turning to look out the window again.

I pulled out a card marked only with the digits of my burner phone number. “Call me if you change your mind.”

As I walked back to the apartment, I thought about giving Yun Seo a call. We hadn’t talked much since the last night we’d had sex. After he broke so many of his rules for me, I’d hoped he might sleep over as well, but when I woke up alone I immediately had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He avoided my calls for days afterward and stopped coming to the apartment entirely. At first I thought I’d pushed him too far or that he hadn’t enjoyed the experience, but the next time we talked in person I realized that I wasn’t the problem. He was. He’d let me past more of his boundaries than he’d intended and was uncomfortable with the result, so he’d reset every wall between us and added reinforcements for good measure. 

That didn’t mean he’d stopped caring. He would check in on me routinely and send grocery deliveries to make sure the apartment was stocked with food, but he rarely asked me to drive him anywhere. I’d only seen him a handful of times in person and never alone. I knew he was busy, that all of his revenge plans were finally on the verge of coming to fruition and he was obsessed with seeing them through, but I couldn’t help feeling as if I’d been abandoned. 

If I was being honest I’d have to admit that I hadn’t made much of an effort to reach out to him either. I’d filled my days so completely with work I’d assigned to myself that I was living vicariously through the people I was investigating more than I was living for myself. But I had nothing left to investigate now. I’d failed in my assignment and had no intention of continuing to harass people whose only crime was being associated with criminals. I’m sure Dae Hak Kun could still serve time for being an accomplice, but so could I if the Gihoe Society could ever make any charges against Yun Seo stick.

Taking the stairs instead of the elevator, I trudged up the apartment building’s stairwell slowly and tried to figure out what I was going to do now. I would have to tell Yun Seo something. Or I could just pretend I was still working and delay the inevitable a little longer. Maybe his other minions would find success first and he wouldn’t need my efforts at all.