Present Day, Seoul

I was surprised when Na Rae offered to pick me up at my house instead of the other way around, and even more surprised when she drove up in one of Yun Seo’s sports cars, a sleek electric blue Bugatti that I’d never gotten the chance to drive myself. I’d gone to the window when I heard it roar down the street and was there in time to watch her step out of the vehicle and lean back against the side to wait for me. She looked like a celebrity in her all black ensemble of elegant dress, plush cardigan and expensive sunglasses. She was wearing ballet flats instead of heels, which I suspected was a concession to the car’s responsiveness and her need for control, but they still looked hellishly expensive.

Feeling underdressed in a button-down and jeans, I locked up the house and meandered my way across the lawn to her with my hands in my pockets. “When did you start driving?”

“When my driver left me high and dry,” she replied with a sniff. 

“That’s quite the vehicle,” I noted.

“It’s mine. They’re all mine. Always have been. I thought I might as well start using them.” Dragging black painted nails over the glossy door, she pursed her lips. “I’m glad he didn’t drive this one off the cliff.” The comment would have sounded shockingly callous if I hadn’t already known that Yun Seo was still alive. Giving me a conflicted look that I could see now was her attempt to feign grief, she said in a strained voice, “Get in, oppa. I want to show off a little.”

I spent the next half hour holding my breath, clinging to the car seat as she took risks I never would have taken even when I was driving alone, shocked by her boldness as she wove around traffic and hooted and hollered in delight at every near miss. 

“Na Rae,” I managed to say when we finally pulled into the museum parking lot, trying to tamp down my nausea, “I hope you don’t drive like that all the time.”

She giggled. “Only when I’m trying to impress someone. Don’t worry so much. I know what I’m doing. I enjoyed my driving lessons so much that I decided to take a stunt driving course as well.”

Shifting in my seat to get a better look at her expression, I asked, “What? Why?”

Shrugging, she replied, “I thought it would be fun, and there’s no use learning to drive if I don’t know how to drive Yunie’s cars. The instructor said that I was one of the safest drivers he’d ever seen. I wasn’t surprised. I’ve been driving cars in video games for years.”

I laughed in spite of my worry, feeling my emotional turmoil ease a little although the nausea didn’t settle until I stepped outside and took a few deep breaths of fresh air. I didn’t like the idea of Na Rae driving recklessly, but I was reassured that she’d at least taken some precautions. Regardless, the rough ride had given me a reprieve from trying to figure out what to do about Yun Seo for a while. I’d been twisting myself in knots all morning trying to decide whether I should ask Na Rae about the post or simply let things be. I was reluctant to confront her over the lie she had almost certainly told out of loyalty to her brother, knowing that loyalty to family trumped everything else even when you were as prickly with your sibling as Na Rae had often been with Yun Seo.

Walking around the car, Na Rae casually looped her arm around mine and tugged me toward the museum. “You look a little peaky,” she said with a grin, peering thoughtfully at me between steps.

“That’s because I am. I’ve never gotten carsick before. Congratulations on the achievement.”

She laughed, her grip on my arm tightening. “I feel so accomplished! I outdrove my driver!” Somehow I wasn’t surprised that her desire to gloat won over her empathy.

We didn’t talk much while we walked through the museum, a smaller venue than we’d visited before, the exhibitions detailed and intimate in a way that felt different from the modern galleries Na Rae usually preferred. Na Rae pointed out some of the subtler nuances and normally I would have been stunned by her perspective, how she observed things I would never have noticed on my own, but I was too distracted by my spiraling thoughts to truly appreciate her skills of observation. The art itself was not particularly moving to me, but Na Rae seemed to be enjoying herself enough. 

When we had finished visiting all the galleries, she suggested we walk the grounds as well to see the art that had been placed outdoors. We followed winding paths across the lawn at a leisurely pace, the day overcast and warm but not intolerably so, a pleasant breeze keeping the heat from being overwhelming. Na Rae had shed her cardigan and looped it over her purse strap, wandering a few steps ahead and glancing back often enough that she seemed to be studying me at least as much as she was scrutinizing the art.

“Let’s sit down for a minute,” she said when we reached a quiet grove far from the museum. Sitting down on a bench in the shade of a metal tree that twisted false branches toward the sky, she turned to look at me as I sat down. “I have something to tell you.” Her voice trembled a little, perhaps with nerves or hesitation, and I immediately felt the knot of anticipation begin to unravel at the pit of my stomach. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to be the one to broach this topic after all.

Settling on the bench beside her, I schooled my expression to neutrality, bracing for whatever she was about to say 

“In Ho tried to talk me out of this, but you know no one can change my mind once I’ve made a decision.”

In Ho, I noted. Not Lawyer Park. I nodded, eager to question her relationship with In Ho, but decided not to interrupt her. I wanted to know where this was going, and expected her to take a lot longer to get to the point than she did.

Taking a deep breath, she said quickly, “Yun Seo is alive.”

Her bluntness always managed to catch me off guard, and a bark of a laugh escaped my chest before I could stop it.

“You knew already,” she gasped, leaning forward to get a better look at my face. “Didn’t you?”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I suspected. And then I doubted. Until I saw this.” The post was still on the screen of my phone from when I’d foolishly looked at it again while I was waiting for her to pick me up.

She sucked in an angry breath when she saw it, squeezing my phone so hard it creaked a little in her grip. When she was done reading, she hissed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’ll throw him off a cliff myself.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I said mildly, reaching out to retrieve my phone before she broke it in half.

“How did you find that post?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost tentative. “I had no idea he’d even made an account on Requite.”

“By accident. It doesn’t matter.”

Biting her lower lip, she nodded and flopped against the back of the bench. “Even if it was a shitty way for you to find out the truth, I’m glad you had a chance to hear those words from him yourself.”

“So you think he meant what he said?” The question came out more fragile than I wanted it to sound, but she didn’t take advantage of my weakness, considering her response with a grave expression.

“I know he did. For whatever difference that makes.”

I didn’t know how to react to that, so I remained silent. 

“I was worried I would be doing the wrong thing by telling you the truth,” she continued after a while. “In Ho seemed to think so.”

“Why?” I turned to look at her, searching her gaze for understanding.

“He thinks you deserve better. I do, too, honestly, but I also know that Yunie is better than In Ho thinks. Or at least he could be if he had a reason to try.” Breaking eye contact, she pulled her knees up to her chest, leaning forward until her chin was resting between them. Miraculously, her long skirt managed to cover everything in spite of her precarious pose. “I also know he hasn't gotten over you. I don’t think he’s even tried.”

In spite of the day’s heat, I shivered.

“I called him after the funeral,” she continued in an insubstantial voice, her words nearly swallowed by the breeze. “I hadn’t expected you to take it that hard, not after all this time, and I don’t think Yunie saw it coming either. He was so quiet after I told him, but he refused to change his mind about keeping you in the dark. I think he’s afraid.” She laughed bitterly. “In all the years I’ve known him, all the horrible things we’ve been through, I’ve never heard that kind of fear in his voice before.”

“He’s afraid of getting hurt,” I said, the words forming before the thoughts that spawned them had fully coalesced.

“Probably,” she admitted, “but I think he’s more afraid of hurting you again.” Reaching down for her purse, she pulled out a hardbound journal that I hadn’t expected to ever see again. “He asked me to return this to you. I don’t know what he had to sacrifice to get it, but I know it cost him.”

Breath catching in my throat, I reached out to take my father’s journal, the one that had been missing from my collection since Yun Seo stole it. The Gihoe Society had surely copied it by now and made full use of my father’s work, but none of that mattered. Not anymore. Sliding my palm over the front cover, I asked without really expecting an answer, “Why would he do that?”

“He said he promised you that he’d get it back.”

A dry chuckle escaped my lips. I hadn’t believed his promise. I’d thought he was too obsessed with defeating the Gihoe Society to take any action that might undermine his goals. Back then, I’d seen his behavior as selfish, but now that I had a little distance from the situation I realized it had been more complicated than that. According to Jo Soo Yeon, Yun Seo had been abused, by his father and perhaps other members of the Gihoe Society as well. Could I blame an abuse victim for becoming consumed by the need to take his power back from his abusers? That didn’t mean I should forgive him for choosing his revenge over me and the things that mattered to me, but it did add a nuance to the situation I couldn’t ignore. His actions could be considered compulsion more than free will. The fact that he had eventually been able to overcome that compulsion and choose differently in order to keep his promise to me meant something, didn’t it?

“Did he get what he wanted in the end?” I asked, realizing I still didn’t know the outcome of Yun Seo’s efforts. “Was he able to save his mother?”

Na Rae’s expression tightened. “No. She’s gone. And the Gihoe Society got away with everything by shifting the focus onto him. They’re too powerful to stop. Every time he knocked one of them down, another rose up in their place.”

“So he just gave up the fight?”

She sighed. “I worry he hasn’t. That he’s just gone underground. And this time he plans to do everything entirely on his own so no one else will get hurt in the process.”

I felt the fragile stirring of hope dissolve inside my chest. “Nothing has changed, then. Nothing that matters, anyway.”

Looking up at me with a hint of panic in her eyes, she straightened. “That’s just my theory. I could be wrong, but whatever his plans are now, he hasn’t shared them with me.”

“Thanks for telling me the truth,” I said, forcing a pathetic attempt at a smile. “And tell In Ho I understand why he didn’t want to.”

Biting her lip again, she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded slowly, twisting the hem of her dress between her fingers. “Do you want his number?”

“No,” I said almost immediately. The thought of initiating contact with him after so long with all the ghosts of memory still cluttering the space between us made me want to run away again. I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready. If we were going to reconnect, he would have to be the one who bridged the gap, and he’d already made it abundantly clear that he had no intention of ever doing that.

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked after a while, sounding more uncertain than I’d ever heard her.

I shook my head. “I think I’ll stay here a little longer. I need some time to think.” Glancing at her, I forced another smile, one even more pathetic than the last. “I’ll find my own way home.”

Managing a half-hearted laugh, she nudged my shoulder playfully. “You just don’t want to put up with my driving again.”

“That’s another reason,” I agreed, my smile settling into something a little more real.

“I’m sorry, oppa.” Her voice had lost its teasing tone, her hand gentle now as she caressed my shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I’m on your side.”

“Don’t say that,” I replied, covering her hand with my own. “You have to be on his side first. He needs you more than he would ever admit.”

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t automatically get my support just because he’s my brother, especially when he’s being an idiot.”

“He’s only protecting himself. I can’t blame him for that after everything he’s been through.”

The fact that she didn’t make light of my words by rolling her eyes or making a joke told me more than I’d wanted to know about the truth of my suspicions. “It’s easy to forget,” she said quietly. “He always acts so strong, but he’s fragile underneath all that prickly armor.” Pursing her lips, she said, “But you have the right to protect yourself, too. You’ve also been through a lot, oppa.”

Strangely, that was the thing that almost made me lose control of my emotions, but I managed to swallow them back down before they overwhelmed me, squeezing her hand before letting it go. “Thanks, Na Rae. I’m lucky to have someone like you in my corner.”

“We’re the ones who are lucky to have you,” she replied, leaning closer to give me a side hug before finally standing up and taking a step away, her purse dragging close to the ground where it hung between her clasped hands. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said. “I’ll be by your side in a flash.”

“You really shouldn’t drive that fast.”

“You know me.” She smirked. “I do what I want.”