by Paula Stokes
“Fair enough,” I say. “Money feels like the only thing I have right now.”
“Well, that puts you ahead of a lot of people.” Baz slips his helmet back on.
“I guess. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“The keycard will activate the elevator.” He pauses. “Or in your case, let you into the stairwell. The maids won’t start cleaning until at least eight A.M. because they won’t want to wake anyone up. So we’ll come back here around seven thirty and wait until we hear the maid in Kyung’s suite. Then one of us gets to engage her in a short conversation so we can clone her keycard.”
“Clone it how?”
“I have a badge cloner. It takes thirty seconds to record the information and then a simple swipe will copy that info onto a new card. All we’ll have to do is wait for her to finish cleaning and we’ll have access to Kyung’s suite.”
“Sebastian. You are brilliant!” I say.
“Nah. I just have a lot of cool toys.”
He smirks at me and I return it with a tentative smile. He definitely has access to a lot of resources that Jesse and I wouldn’t have on our own.
* * *
Back at the apartment, Jesse is flipping through our TV channels. “Look! I found a channel that plays English movies.”
I squint at the screen. An elderly Chinese man is telling a guy with awkward hair not to feed something furry after midnight. “From what decade?”
“Eighties? Nineties? Better than nothing. So what happened?”
“We followed him to a fancy business hotel. He’s in a penthouse suite. Baz and I are going to plant cameras and listening devices while he’s at work.” I give Jesse a rundown of following Kyung to the Seoul SkyTower and our plans for tomorrow.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just stay there tonight,” he says.
“We were afraid you might miss us,” Baz says with a grin. “Or be unable to find food without Winter’s help.”
“Oh, I’ve figured out how to order food here.” Jesse mimics like he’s pointing at different things and nods vigorously. “I had a sandwich on something called honey bread at the coffee shop, and it was delicious.” He turns to me. “You still owe me actual Korean food at some point, though.”
“I know,” I say. “We’ve only been here for three days.” Even as I say it, it’s hard to believe. I’ve accomplished more than I ever would have thought possible. I’m really glad Jesse and Baz are with me.
Jesse coughs, and I watch him lift one hand to brace his chest from the pressure.
“Do you want help changing your dressings?”
He shrugs. “Either way. How is your leg?”
“Not bad,” I say. “It’s been aching a bit today, but no bleeding.”
“I’ll grab the first-aid stuff from my suitcase and meet you in the bathroom,” Jesse says.
When I duck into the bathroom a few minutes later, Jesse has laid out squares of gauze, a roll of tape, and a tube of antibiotic ointment on the little ledge above the sink. He shrugs his T-shirt over his shoulders and I do my best to ignore the little rush of desire that floods through me. Some of the tiny strips of adhesive are drying up and falling off the incision that runs down the middle of his chest. All of his wounds appear to be healing nicely. I apply antibiotic ointment and tape fresh dressings on them.
Next Jesse helps me. My own wound on my leg is looking a little puffy, but the pain is just sort of gnawing and dull. I sit on the closed toilet while Jesse uses the shower nozzle to give my leg a really good rinsing.
“Is the water too hot?” he asks.
“It hurts a little, but it feels good, you know?” I watch the skin around my scab turn pink. “I can tell it’s really cleaning things.”
Jesse shuts the shower off and I blot my leg dry with a towel. I squeeze a bunch of antibiotic ointment on top of the scab and smear it around a little with a piece of gauze. I hold the new gauze in place while Jesse tapes around each of the edges.
“Thanks,” I say.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Why?” Having free time is not something I’m accustomed to. Gideon used to curate my days very carefully, filling them with what he thought was the optimal mix of academic study and physical exercise.
“There’s another movie from before we were born getting ready to start. I think it’s called Labyrinth.”
“What’s it about?”
“A girl who has to make her way through a labyrinth in order to save her little brother from a goblin king.”
I used to have dreams about being separated from my sister and trapped in a maze. It makes me wonder if I’ve already seen this movie and don’t remember it.
“Or we could find something else to watch,” Jesse offers. “You could explain one of those Korean dramas to me. I tried to watch something earlier today with a lot of crying and yelling and sad music, but I never did figure out what the actors were so upset about.”
I smile. It would be fun to relax on the sofa, explaining K-dramas to Jesse. It would be like a date.
And then I remember those boundaries I set. I’m not here for dates. “I’m actually feeling sort of tired,” I say. “I should probably just get some sleep.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Jesse manages to hold a neutral expression, but it’s impossible not to see the light fade from his eyes.
CHAPTER 23
The next day, Baz and I are up by six a.m. to prepare for our mission. The two of us move quietly through the darkened apartment, taking turns in the bathroom and slipping into our winter weather gear. I resist the urge to send Jesse a text as we head out into the cold, figuring the buzz of the phone might wake him.
I climb on the back of Baz’s motorcycle and we zip through the streets of the city. It’s kind of beautiful right now—the pollution and grime disguised by the purple sky, the neon lights melding together in a blur of color as we speed past. We take the same path as last night—the Han River, the Buddhist temple—but everything feels more peaceful. Even the wind isn’t quite as brutal, Korean flags hanging like sashes in front of the banks and post offices.
A digital billboard displaying two pretty girls out at a club promises yet another new phone from Samsung and then flicks to an advertisement for UsuTech’s newest tablet computer—this one with pretty girls in a conference room. Soon, the SkyTower hotel looms on the horizon. It’s taller than the other buildings around it, a silvery spike stabbing into the fading night.
“I wonder why Kyung doesn’t stay at a family home,” I muse, as we slow to a stop at an intersection.
Baz rests his boots against the frosty pavement. “Maybe he doesn’t have any family here. Or perhaps they’re estranged.”
“Is that what it is with you?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
“I was just wondering. Jesse’s nurse asked me if you had any family, but I had to tell her I wasn’t sure.”
Baz chuckles. “Let me guess. Kendra?”
“Yes,” I say, surprised. Jesse probably had at least three or four different nurses in the hospital. “How did you know that?”
The light turns green and the bike’s engine whines as Baz accelerates sharply. He turns his head for a second as we lean into a curve on the road. “That girl loved me.”
I snort. “She seemed to have strong feelings, but I don’t know if love is the best description.”
Baz laughs again but doesn’t respond. We cut across three lanes of traffic and hop up onto the corner of the wide city sidewalk in order to avoid a snarl of delivery trucks that are clogging up one lane of the road.
“I thought you weren’t going to kill me.” My teeth click together as the bike drops from the sidewalk back to street level.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.” Baz pulls the bike in a sharp angle and cuts through a narrow alley. I cling to him as he navigates the steep, twisting pavement with ease. About three minutes and three more close calls la
ter, he slows to a stop in front of the parking garage for the Seoul SkyTower. The parking attendant steps forward in his navy uniform, collar zipped up to his eyes to protect his face from the cold. Baz flashes a keycard at him and he ushers us into the garage.
We pull into the first open space we see and Baz cuts the engine. I hop off the bike and gingerly remove my helmet, reaching a hand up to make sure my wig is still in place.
Baz secures our helmets to the bike. “You know, it’s going to look odd that you’re using the stairs when we’re staying on the twentieth floor.”
“I know, but it would also look odd if I have a panic attack in the elevator,” I say. “I’m sure there’s a camera in there.”
“I’m just saying you should probably work on at least being able to survive a few seconds in an elevator. At some point it might end up being the thing that makes it possible for us to escape.”
I mull that thought over as we walk toward the entrance together. I imagine Jesse, Baz, and myself at UsuMed finding the stolen technology in some top-floor office and then getting caught just as we’re leaving. I see us all running down twenty flights of stairs because I’m scared of the elevator. I know who would lose that race, and it isn’t me. Baz might leave us and escape on his own, but Jesse would end up sticking by me and getting caught. “You’re right. I’ll start working on it once we’re through here.”
“Maybe Ramirez can help you. I get the idea he’s feeling a little left out.”
“True. And probably isolated since both of us are somewhat familiar with the area.”
Baz nods. “This can be a tough place to get used to. Everything moves at such a fast pace.” He gives me a keycard. “See you on the other side.”
I head for the stairs. It takes me longer than usual to go twenty floors. I’m sweaty and out of breath by the time I make it to the top, where Baz is waiting for me. He looks me up and down as I close the door to the stairwell, but doesn’t comment on my condition.
We slip into the penthouse suite together. The heavy door closes behind us with a soft click.
“Wow,” I say. The entryway is made of black marble tiles inlaid with gold. It opens into a large living area with a vaulted ceiling and a set of glass doors that lead out onto a wide balcony. The walls are done in silver-and-white textured wallpaper and the black L-shaped sofa is buried in embroidered pillows. This is one of the most beautiful rooms I’ve ever seen, but by far the most impressive thing in the room is the huge TV screen built into the wall.
“It’s a smart suite,” Baz says. “You download an app and control everything from your phone—the TV, the lights, the heat, even the coffeemaker.”
“Where are you going to hide the cameras?” I ask.
“Good question.” Baz ducks into the master bedroom and I follow him. There’s another TV in here, a flat screen sitting on the dresser. A black-and-white photograph of a skyline I don’t recognize hangs on the wall above the bed.
“It’s Kuala Lumpur.” Baz lifts the frame from the wall and peers at the back of it. “I can hide a listening device here, and behind one of the paintings in the living room, but the cameras are going to be more tricky.” He strolls back into the main room, a focused look on his face. “Got it.” He points up toward the ceiling. Several sprinkler heads are embedded between the noise-dampening ceiling tiles. “We can put cameras up there. It’s not an ideal angle for spying, but there’s no way he’ll notice them.”
“And so now we just wait for the maid and then one of us needs to talk to her?” I ask.
“I’ll talk to her. The front desk attendants have already seen my face. The fewer people who see you the better.”
“All right.” I flop down on the living room sofa and Baz sits in a chair across from me.
“So,” he says.
“So,” I repeat.
“Back to Ramirez. If you’re not into him, why do you keep stringing him along?”
“This again? I don’t do that,” I say. At least I’ve been trying really hard to keep from doing that.
“Even I can see that you totally send him mixed signals.”
I pull my legs up on the sofa and fold them behind me. “What do you mean?”
“You two were inseparable in St. Louis. Now you’re acting more like cousins who’ve just met for the first time.”
“It’s complicated.” I run the tip of my index finger along the edge of the sofa, hoping that maid shows up sooner rather than later. “I have sent him mixed signals, but some of that is because of my condition. It’s hard to send the same signals if you’re not always being the same person.”
“Ah,” Baz says. “Right. I almost forgot that the two of you—”
“Don’t,” I say through clenched teeth. “Don’t say it.”
Baz holds his hands up in self-defense. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Why do you care, anyway?” I ask. “It’s not like you’re friends. You treat him like a pet.”
“That’s a little extreme.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Is it?”
Baz stretches his legs out in front of him and crosses them at the ankle. “When I was his age, I was a lot … harder than he is, so maybe I don’t always take him seriously. But that’s why I have to look out for him. He’s the sensitive type. I don’t want to see you rip out his heart and toss it in front of a packed express train.”
“Now who’s being extreme?” I pick at a loose thread on the sofa. “I’m not messing with him. I do care about him. I’m just not sure how to reconcile that with who I am.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m broken,” I say. “And I don’t know if there’s a way to fix me. Why would he want to be with someone so screwed up instead of a normal girl?”
“No one is normal.” Baz makes air quotes around the word. “Sometimes love is about finding a person you connect with to a degree where you don’t mind putting up with their issues.” He pauses. “But you just found out about your condition. Don’t write yourself off as unfixable before you even try.”
“Good point,” I say, touched by Baz’s words. “I’ve been meaning to do some research about DID, but I can’t focus on anything else right now. Still, even if I could get better someday, I came here to kill someone. That should feel wrong, but it doesn’t. It’s like I’m … blinded by hate.” I grab a throw pillow from the back of the sofa and hug it to my chest. I rest my chin on the edge of it. “I don’t feel very lovable. Sometimes I don’t even feel human anymore.”
“Hate is a very human emotion,” Baz says quietly.
I blink back tears. “All I know is that it will never go away unless I kill Kyung. Unless I stand over his body and say, ‘This is for my sister, this is for Gideon, this is for every girl whose life you destroyed, this is for me.’ Needing to kill someone like that makes me feel like a monster. Monsters can’t love, can they?”
There’s a clattering noise from the hallway. Baz rises from his chair and strides quickly over to the door. I follow. We hear the maid humming softly as she pushes her cart past our door.
“Ready?” He slips the cloning device into his pocket. “I’ll be right back.”
He pauses to grab the towels from the bathroom. Then he opens the door to slip out into the hallway. Just before it closes behind him, he looks back at me, his gray eyes deadly serious. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think monsters spend a lot of time worrying about whether they’re monsters.”
I ponder the words while I wait. Baz told me once that he was a terrible person, and he was fine with it. Is he trying to say the two of us are different, that it’s not wrong for me to want to kill someone? That I can have both vengeance and love? It seems like too much for any one heart to handle.
“Ajumma,” Baz says. I press my ear to the door so I can listen to him.
“You need towel? I clean next,” the woman says haltingly.
“Um … no need to clean,” Baz says. “Just new towels?”
“Clean lat
er?”
“That’s okay. Just towels,” he repeats. The hallway is silent for a couple of moments and I envision the maid giving Baz some new towels. I’m not sure if it’s been thirty seconds yet.
“Thank you,” he says. “Ah, one more question. Phone works for heat?”
“Phone for everything,” the woman says.
“Can I show you this?” Baz asks.
There’s another pause. Then the maid says, “You ask front desk. They explain.”
“Ah, okay,” Baz says. “Thank you. Gamsahamnida.”
“Ne, gamsahamnida,” the maid responds.
A few seconds later Baz keycards himself back into the room. He gives me a thumbs-up as he shuts the door behind him. He pulls the cloning device from his pocket. He swipes one of the keycards he got for our suite and the light on the machine turns green. “And we’re in business.”
* * *
After the maid has left Kyung’s suite, we wait another ten minutes just to be safe. Then we each don a pair of rubber gloves and let ourselves in.
“It’s a little scary how easy that was for you,” I say, slipping out of my boots in the entryway.
“It’s a little scary to me the way people put so much faith in random technology.” Baz places his boots next to mine. “Electronic locks, mobile banking, backing up documents to the cloud. I would never trust any of that. Trusting tech means trusting the people who created it, and not all of those people are good. And even the good ones can make a mistake.”
I lift a hand to the back of my skull and press RECORD on my headset. While Baz installs the surveillance equipment, I’m going to go through Kyung’s personal belongings to see if there’s anything useful. We don’t want to spend too much time in here, so I’m just going to scan everything and then review the recording later.
Baz grabs a chair from the dining area and positions it under one of the sprinkler heads in the living room. I head for the bedroom, a sick sense of dread pooling in my gut as I think about being so close to where Kyung sleeps.
The shades are lowered completely and I have to flip on the lights to be able to see my way around. The room is set up just like our master bedroom next door—though the décor isn’t quite the same. The photograph hanging behind the bed is of a different city; the bed itself is dressed in navy blue sheets and a dark duvet with gold trim.