by Paula Stokes
You can do this, I tell myself. You’re just one more worker. No one will pay you any special attention unless you give them a reason.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door to the Talent Acquisition Department. There are three other girls milling about the waiting area. Two of them are chatting, and I realize they’re new employees, like me. The third girl is glued to her phone, tapping out a text message. She’s wearing silvery-gray tights with her black skirt. Sparkly silver ribbons are threaded down the middle of her wispy pigtails. I envy her carefree style. I wander the length of the room, pretending to be checking out the different notices on the walls, but really I’m trying to capture as much on my ViSE as possible.
A stern-looking woman in a dark pantsuit strides out from the back part of the office. Her eyes skim over the group of us. I try not to fidget or adjust my hair.
“I am the manager, Mrs. Kim Eun Young,” she says in Korean. “Come. We have much to do today.”
The other girls and I follow her back out into the hallway and into a deserted conference room where she has us all take seats around a plain fiberglass table. She removes four tablet computers from a locked cabinet and hands one to each of us. Then she gives us instructions on how to log in to the UsuMed network. For the next two hours, we complete new-hire paperwork on these computers. I have all the items Baz had printed for me, and I do my best not to arouse suspicion as I slowly complete the forms. I spent a couple of hours last night memorizing the basic information of the girl whose job I stole, so I wouldn’t have to think if someone asked me something like my date of birth, year of graduation, or Korean ID number.
After we finish the forms, we’re given a short ten-minute break. The girl in the gray tights says she’s going to step outside for a few minutes. “Anyone want to come with me?” she asks.
“I’ll go.” I hop up from my chair. I figure she’s probably going to smoke, but maybe I can get her chatting. I don’t know what I can find out about UsuMed from her, but at this point the more information the better.
We walk down the hallway silently together. The girl punches the DOWN button on the elevator and I say a silent thank-you to Baz for forcing me to practice. “I’m Choi Yoo Mi,” she says, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The elevator arrives and I try not to flinch as I enter it. A couple of men in suits are standing at the back of the car.
“I’m Lee Jae Hwa,” I say as the elevator doors close with a soft swish.
We stand silently as the elevator carries us to the first floor. When the doors open, the men push past and hurry across the tile floor toward the coffee shop. We turn the other direction, ducking out through the revolving door into a clear but cold day. I follow Yoo Mi around to the smoking area.
She pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her purse. She offers a cigarette to me.
I shake my head. “I just wanted to get some fresh air.”
“Then you live in the wrong place,” she says with a grin. “I actually don’t smoke either. I just pretend to so I have an excuse to sneak out here. We’re not going to meet many guys in the call center. My friend met her future husband in the smoking area.” She gestures around us as she lights her cigarette. There are about fifteen people out here right now and eleven of them are men.
“You don’t have a boyfriend?” I ask, surprised. I just met Yoo Mi, but she seems so confident, so comfortable in her own skin. She seems like the kind of girl guys would fight over. But maybe I’m thinking about American guys. Individuality is still somewhat frowned upon here.
“No. I had one in college but we broke up senior year. You?”
I have a strange urge to tell her about Jesse, even though he’s not my boyfriend. But if I mention him, she’s going to want to see pictures and she’s going to wonder how I met a foreigner, and there are just too many potential questions I don’t want to answer. So instead I lower my gaze to the ground. “Oh, I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Surprising.” Yoo Mi lights the cigarette and holds it downwind of both of us. “You’re really pretty.”
My face reddens a little. “Thank you. So are you.”
A gust of wind picks up, ruffling coattails and blowing bits of trash down the street. Yoo Mi watches a pair of guys in suits as they lean over their phones.
“How long did it take you to get this job?” I ask her.
“I’ve been in the Cheonma database for a couple of months,” she says. “I had one other offer but I refused it because the commute would have been almost two hours each way.”
Yoo Mi turns out to be the kind of girl who keeps talking once you get her started. She lives in one of the outermost areas of Seoul. She has to take a bus and two trains to get here, but it’s worth it because the recruiter told her if she does a good job, there’s a decent probability that UsuMed might hire her permanently, and then she can move to an apartment in the city.
Yoo Mi drops the cigarette to the ground and grinds it out under the toe of her leather boot. She places the butt into one of the marked receptacles and we turn back toward the lobby. We return to the same conference room, where Mrs. Kim starts a series of informational and legal videos on a projector screen.
After about twenty minutes of boring corporate history and policy, I realize the memory card in my recorder headset has run out. I ask Mrs. Kim if I may be excused to use the restroom.
Her eyes flick to the clock on the wall. I know she’s wondering why I can’t wait another hour for our official lunch break, but she’s not going to ask me because she doesn’t want to embarrass me. “You may, but please hurry. We have a lot to get through today.”
I head down the long tiled hallway, duck into the bathroom, and swap out the cards in one of the stalls. “Most boring ViSE in the history of the world,” I mutter as I slip the full one into my purse. “Maybe we can market you as a cure for insomnia.”
On the way back to Talent Acquisition, I make an intentional wrong turn, hoping I can play the clueless new girl on day one without anyone holding it against me.
The sign near the fourteenth-floor elevator says that in addition to Talent Acquisition, this floor is also home to college recruitment and something called the Science Scholars Program. I make a loop around all the hallways, scanning both ways to record as much as I can, but nothing feels particularly helpful. I duck into the stairwell and try to swipe my badge to access the floor below, but the access light remains red and the door remains locked. I don’t know if it’s because the thirteenth floor is a restricted area or because the temporary agency badges aren’t coded for stairwell access.
I head back up to the fourteenth floor and realize my mistake. That door also has a badge reader but my badge doesn’t work. I’ve locked myself in the stairwell. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but probably enough for Mrs. Kim to wonder what I’m doing. Sighing, I descend all the way to the first floor, hoping it will be an unsecured door since it leads into the lobby.
The stairwell is empty, so I figure I might as well check out the lower levels while I’m down here. But all of them—B-1 to B-4—have card readers. At least I have all of this on a ViSE recording now.
I return to the first floor, which as I suspected has no card reader. I exit out into the lobby. As I’m waiting for the elevator to go back up, I catch sight of a security guard heading for the front exit. Damn it. He looks like one of the guys on Baz’s list. He’s probably going to smoke. If I hadn’t wasted so much time, I could go out there too. I’ve got the badge-cloning device in my purse.
The elevator doors open while I’m still debating. Mrs. Kim steps out. She’s got a wallet in her hand and appears to be heading for the coffee shop. I try to duck behind a potted plant, but I’m not quick enough.
“Jae Hwa, what are you doing?” Mrs. Kim’s eyes narrow. “I thought you were going to the restroom.”
“It was being cleaned,” I say quickly, my breath catching in my throat. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to make the lie sound mo
re believable. “The janitor recommended I use the bathroom on the floor below, and then I locked myself in the stairwell, so I had to come all the way down here.”
“You took the stairs instead of the elevator?”
“Well, I thought I would only have to go one floor.” I bite my lip, trying to look contrite. “And I’ve been trying to get more exercise.”
Mrs. Kim purses her lips. I can tell she’s not sure whether to believe me. “Come,” she says finally. “I’ll walk you back to the training room.”
I know better than to protest. I scurry into the elevator behind her, my chin tucked low in what I hope looks like remorse. I stand at the back of the car, with Mrs. Kim to my right side. I can feel her eyes on me. I keep my own eyes trained carefully on the floor.
When the elevator arrives at the fourteenth floor, I mumble another apology to Mrs. Kim and hurry down the hallway. I slide back into the training room, where the other three girls are still watching orientation videos.
Yoo Mi glances over at me. “Everything all right?” she mouths.
I nod. She makes a face that I’m pretty certain is an imitation of Mrs. Kim. I swallow back a giggle. When I imagined coming to work at UsuMed, all I thought about was finding the tech and the possibility of running into Kyung. It didn’t occur to me that I might actually make a friend.
* * *
At one o’clock, Mrs. Kim informs us that we have an hour for lunch, and the four of us decide to go to a local restaurant together. Many of the UsuMed staff eat in the coffee shop or restaurant located on the first floor, but there are at least a dozen other places within a two-block radius. Yoo Mi links arms with me and the other two girls hold hands as we head down the street to a nearby noodle shop.
Inside, the tables are crowded and packed close together, trapping the heat from the kitchen and keeping us warm. I order a bowl of tteokguk, which is a hot broth soup with leeks and slices of rice cake in it.
While we’re waiting for the food to arrive, the four of us chatter about our first day at UsuMed. The other two girls are best friends who were roommates in college. Their names are Soo Jin and Min Hee, but they like to go by their Western names, Susan and Minnie.
“Where do you live?” Susan asks. She starts to pour a cup of water for each of us from a pitcher at the end of the table.
I hold my cup with both hands as she pours mine. “Gwangjin-gu.” I give them the area of the city that is printed on my fake ID.
“Did you go to Sejong University?” Minnie takes the pitcher and pours Susan a cup.
I shake my head. “I went to Yonsei.”
“Lucky,” Minnie says. “I bet you’ll be the first of us to be offered a permanent position.”
“I don’t know. Mrs. Kim already hates me.”
Yoo Mi giggles. “Where did you go, anyway? Longest bathroom trip ever.”
“I had to go to a different floor because the bathroom was being serviced, and then I got a little lost on my way back.” I pause, do my best to look thoughtful.“This building is so huge. I wonder what’s happening on all the other floors.”
“There’s a directory in the lobby,” Susan says.
“Right, but some of the floors are marked private, like B-1 and B-2.”
Yoo Mi’s eyes light up. “Ooh. I wonder if that’s where they do the top-secret stuff.”
You and me both, I think. But how can I find out?
* * *
Our food arrives and I lapse into silence, realizing we have to be back to the conference room in less than thirty minutes. Yoo Mi focuses mainly on her phone. Susan and Minnie chatter about a K-pop sing-off that’s supposed to happen on Thursday night, close to the office.
I’m dreading going back for a boring afternoon of more UsuMed corporate policy videos, but as the four of us approach the wide plaza in front of the building, things get more interesting. A long black car pulls up. Kyung, I think, even though I don’t know for sure. A man with broad shoulders wearing dress pants and a fitted jacket steps out of the car. There’s a telltale bulge in the small of his back—a gun. I bet the other girls don’t even realize it because it’s such a rare sight here. The man glances both ways and then gestures to someone still in the car.
A man in a suit slides out of the back.
It’s not Kyung. This man is taller, younger, with hair that’s just a little long for a Korean executive. He turns back to say something to the driver and I catch a glimpse of his face. I don’t recognize him, but I know him from somewhere.
I’m certain of it.
I flip back through what’s left of the memories of my past, looking for a match. Who is he?
A name comes to me, out of nowhere. Alec.
I don’t know if it’s real. I search my memories again. But then another man steps out of the car and something dark and damaged rustles beneath my skin. Kill, a voice whispers. Finish it.
It’s Kyung. He doesn’t even need to turn around for me to know. He strides up the steps in front of the building as if he owns the world.
He owns our world. Take it back.
Lily. Violent, impulsive Lily. I’m still not sure I believe in her.
Believe.
I tremble. My breath goes silent in my chest. The gray day gets even darker. My left hand drops to my side. The knife in my boot is so close. My eyes trace the path from my hand to Kyung’s back. Clear shot.
No, I silently protest. Not here, not now.
Let me.
I still haven’t taken a breath. My lungs are on fire. I feel the darkness sliding over me, my body slipping away. The scene before me starts to blur.
“No,” I whisper.
Yoo Mi gives me a strange look. “Jae Hwa, are you all right?”
I contort my quivering lips into what I hope is a smile. “Fine. I just thought I might have left my phone at the restaurant.” I hold up my phone so everyone can see everything is okay, but I’m not looking at them. Kyung and his mysterious colleague have taken a detour around to the smoking area and now all I see are their backs.
Kill.
“Sorry. I need to make a quick phone call,” I tell Yoo Mi. “I’ll see you guys back in the conference room.” I turn and hurry toward a bench near the street before she can ask any follow-up questions. Pulling out my phone, I pretend like I’m calling someone when really all I’m doing is trying to stay in control. If I were calm—if I were healthy—I’d be over in the smoking area cloning Kyung’s badge right now. But just the thought of that sends another storm of fury swirling beneath my skin. Focus, Winter. I bite down hard on my lower lip, fight the spreading darkness.“Everything is fine,” I whisper. “Don’t mess things up.”
Kyung and his friend are chatting. Alec. Where do I know that name from? I study him from a safe distance, his lean frame, relaxed posture, the slight tint of auburn in his hair. I squeeze my eyes shut and probe the dark places of my memory. Alec. Come on—help me out here.
But my mind doesn’t have the answer, or if it does, it’s not ready to give it up.
Alec and Kyung flick the last bits of ash from their cigarettes and toss the butts into one of the marked receptacles. I hold my breath as I watch them walk from the smoking area to the revolving doors.
Lily is finally quiet, but I am still unsettled. If I go back into the building and run across Kyung grabbing a cup of coffee or chatting with the information desk attendant, I have no idea if I’ll be able to stay in control. I rest my head in my hands, feel the pounding of my heart in my fingertips.
My first thought is to call Dr. Abrams, but I realize it’s nighttime in St. Louis. She wouldn’t pick up, or even if she did, she’d be worried about me.
With shaking fingers, I dial Jesse instead.
“Yeah?” he says in a drowsy voice.
“Did you go back to sleep?” I ask incredulously. “It’s almost two!”
“I was trying to study Korean, but looking at all the foreign words made me tired,” he mumbles.
The anger and rage coiled
around my heart start to loosen. “No one expects you to learn Korean,” I say softly. “It’s not an easy language.”
“I’m not doing it because someone expects it. I’m doing it because I want to. It’ll be easier for me to help out with things if I know some basic terminology. Plus, your pal Kyung made two phone calls last night, and I thought maybe I could figure out some of what he said.”
“Two calls? Has Baz listened to them yet?”
“No. He was gone somewhere before I got up.”
“I’ll check them out first thing when I get home.” I peek at the time. I have two minutes before I need to be back inside. Even if I sprint and the elevator is waiting, I probably won’t make it. “I should get going.”
“Are you all right? Your voice sounds funny.”
I rise from the bench and dust off the back of my skirt. “I saw him again,” I whisper.
“Kyung?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, right? If he’s there all the time, that means the ViSE tech isn’t going anywhere.”
“I guess. I nearly lost it, though,” I admit. “It was like I could feel a darker part of me trying to burst through my skin.”
“Lily,” Jesse breathes.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay now? Because if not, maybe you can say you got sick and—”
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I called because I thought I might need you to talk me down, but just your voice helps a lot.”
“You called me for help?” Jesse asks, his voice brightening.
I start to tell him I was going to call Dr. Abrams, but then I swallow back the words. He sounds so happy that I reached out to him. I should let him have that. “Of course,” I say. “We’ve always been there for each other like that, right?”
“Yeah. And we always will be, okay? No matter what happens.”
I hear someone yelling the name Jae Hwa. I glance up and see Yoo Mi’s head sticking out of the conference room window. She holds out her arm and taps at her watch.
I call up to her in Korean, “I’m coming right now.”