by Alana Terry
Jae glared at her. “One more word out of you, and I’ll ...” Sun jumped when Mee-Kyong brought the lamp down on Jae’s back. He turned and raised his rope toward her throat. Sun had to stop them. She flung herself onto her brother’s back, flailing her arms wildly to try to snatch the weapon away. She froze when Mee-Kyong picked up the knife from the bed.
For one horrible second, nobody moved. Sun’s only thought was to keep her brother away from her friend. Mee-Kyong was protective. Too protective. Jae wasn’t really about to hurt her. Sun wanted to tell her to put the knife down, but she couldn’t find her voice.
She felt Jae’s muscles tense a split second before he lunged for the blade. It happened so quickly, she didn’t even have the chance to cry out. She held on tight to Jae’s shoulders as Mee-Kyong whizzed the knife through the air. Where were the guards? Why weren’t they here yet? Sun gasped as she fell off Jae’s back. She knew she should scream. She should make them both stop fighting before someone got hurt. Maybe if she could seize the knife herself ...
Mee-Kyong repositioned the weapon, and Sun bolted towards it. Jae reached it first, knocking Sun onto the mattress. Mee-Kyong cried out as Jae yanked the weapon out of her hand and slashed it toward the bed. Everything was so chaotic Sun didn’t know she was cut until both Mee-Kyong and Jae froze. Mee-Kyong gawked down at her with a ghastly pale face. Her jaw hung open in an inaudible gasp.
Sun put her hand to her neck. Sticky blood soaked her fingers with the first sputtering pulse. She opened her mouth to speak, but found that she had no breath. Jae took one step closer, his entire body trembling. Sweat beaded on his forehead where a bluish vein popped up beneath the skin. His face was contorted, and Sun saw the torture she had caused him etched on each wrinkle. “Forgive me,” she wanted to whisper, but she couldn’t find the air.
***
Mee-Kyong gawked down at the bed as the dirty white sheets turned a familiar shade of deep red. With a wail that sounded more like a shriek than a sob, she sprang onto Sun’s brother, ignoring the pain in her side. “What did you do?”
They fell to the ground. Mee-Kyong made a grab for the knife, barely escaping the blade as it sliced through the air toward her. She punched Sun’s brother in the gut then grasped her bandaged side. Jae lunged, ripping the low-cut red dress she was wearing. He stood up, and she cried out in pain as she sprang at one of his legs.
“I’ll kill you for this!” she shouted. Jae gave one final kick to free his leg and leaped out the door. Mee-Kyong stumbled into the hallway in time to see him disappear down the stairwell. One of the other worker girls dressed in a fake silk robe opened her door and peeked out. Mee-Kyong growled at her, and the door quickly shut.
Crawling back to the room, Mee-Kyong fumbled to Sun’s bed, tossed aside the discarded rope, and hoisted herself up. Panting, she leaned over the child. Sun lay sprawled on her back, her mouth open. Mee-Kyong picked up her limp wrist and waited for a silent eternity. She gawked at the puddle of blood beneath the child’s neck and swept the unruly bangs out of her eyes.
“I’m sorry, little cousin.”
A minute later, Mee-Kyong let go of the makeshift rope and stumbled to the sidewalk. The wind stung her face, whipping strands of hair against her skin. Tears nipped the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Crying had never helped anyone. It wouldn’t help her now. Mee-Kyong tilted her face toward the wind. The red dress was torn. The knife had grazed her skin without causing any real damage. She was exhausted, and her injuries kept her traveling at an impossibly slow speed. She continued on, stopping every minute or so, wincing as she caught her breath. Several times she adjusted the wrapping Sun made for her, but she could never get it as tight as she needed.
How could things have gone so wrong? Mr. Lee was dead. She and Sun could have escaped. Mee-Kyong didn’t know where they would have gone, but she would have found a place. She would have kept them both alive. Why had Sun’s brother come? Her stomach churned. She had to get herself away, but she longed for rest. Rest and something hot to drink. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t give in exchange for a blanket to wrap up in.
Shut up, spoiled brat. Did you have extra blankets and tea in the gulag? Mee-Kyong kept moving. She had to survive. She owed that much to Sun.
CHAPTER 29
Roger had better things to do tonight than fight with his wife. Like sleep. “All I said was I don’t trust him,” he said, frowning as he put on his pajamas.
Juliette studied her husband from over the top of her lenses. “Think he’s undercover?”
Roger tugged on the drawstring of his silk pants. “Probably not. But he was hiding something.”
Juliette took off her glasses. “Benjamin sent him. That’s got to count for something.”
“You already know how I feel about Benjamin.”
“If you can’t trust your own security guard, then why don’t you fire him?” she retorted.
Roger shrugged. “He’s yet another one of your pets. Far be it from me to get in the way of you and your mission to win the Nobel Peace Prize one starving refugee at a time.”
Juliette turned her head sharply, and her curls whipped across her cheek. “It’s more meaningful than printing baby board books all day, isn’t it?” Roger waved his hand like he was trying to rid himself of a pesky mosquito. Juliette crossed her arms. “So what are we going to do about Mr. Lost Sister?”
“What do you mean, ‘What are we going to do?’”
“Well, if Benjamin thought to send him to us, he obviously needs something.”
“Then why didn’t Benjamin help him out? I’m sure a vigorous young man like him knows the way to the hotel district.”
Juliette sucked in her breath. “Benjamin is a hard-working, big loveable teddy bear. And he’s a Christian.”
“What’s that got to do with it?” Roger muttered.
“You have no reason to doubt that boy.”
He pressed his temples. “I don’t know. I’m tired, it’s been a long night. Let’s just get some sleep.”
He rolled onto his side, but Juliette remained sitting up in bed and tugged on his shoulder. “So you’re just going to forget this guy ever came to our door, is that it?”
Roger turned toward his wife but didn’t sit up again. “Look, if he needs more help, he’s welcome to come back to us. We can assess his needs just like any other refugee and figure out what we can do for him. Does that make you happy? Can we go to sleep now, please?”
She yanked her brush through her hair. “And you don’t think it’s slightly strange that a mere few hours after you promise to pray about resuming our rescue ministry in the hotel district, a young man comes to our door, asking us to help him find his lost sister?”
Roger squeezed his eyes shut. His head was throbbing. “He didn’t ask us to help him find her. He just asked for some clothes so he wouldn’t get arrested the moment the police laid eyes on him.” He turned off the lamp on his side of the bed and waited for his wife to do the same. He needed to be up early to take care of his paperwork for the month. He didn’t have time or energy to waste arguing all night long.
Juliette, however, didn’t seem to care. “I still think if you were more open-minded to this whole thing then you’d at least consider that this guy’s visit might be Providence. I mean, you were asking God to give you a sign, weren’t you?”
Roger huffed. “Baby Cakes, can we just talk about this more in the morning?” He tried to soften his words. “I’m tired. We’re both grumpy. I already told you I’d pray about this, but I can’t even do that if we spend the whole night bickering. Think about Eve. She’s probably heard every word we’ve said.”
“That’s nothing new.” Juliette was going at it so hard with her brush, Roger wondered if she’d have any hair left by the time their argument was over. “I just think we should have gone with that boy. Followed him. Helped him look around.”
“When you say ‘we,’ I assume you mean me. That’s what bugs me the most about this who
le brothel-rescue business. You’re welcome to fill your free time with any type of ministry you set your heart on, but you’ve been fixating on brothel ministry since you and Eve started talking about it, and that kind of work eats up a whole chunk of my time, time I don’t have if I’m to keep running this printing business to put our daughter through eight full years at Harvard.”
“I just have this nagging feeling about it.” Juliette finally put down her brush and collapsed on the bed. Roger knew what it was like to have a nagging feeling, but he kept his mouth shut. The sooner they finished talking, the sooner he could get some sleep. He scooted down on his pillow and wrapped the comforter around his body. When his eyes were closed, he heard the creaking of springs. Juliette swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m going downstairs.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I’ll figure something out.” Juliette slammed the door behind her. Roger pulled the comforter up to his chin and sighed.
***
Juliette spent twenty minutes opening cupboards and then closing them again. Whenever she reached the end of the row, she went back to the beginning and repeated the entire mindless procedure. Roger wouldn’t recognize a sign from God if it fell down from heaven and split open his thick skull. It was bad enough her husband just stood by while she was accosted by a homeless bum. Now he was sitting back, doing absolutely nothing when there was a poor girl who needed rescuing just a few kilometers away. Roger had said he would ask God for confirmation. What did he think tonight’s visitor was — just some pickled cabbage?
Juliette slammed the pantry door a little harder than she meant to. “Nothing to eat?” Roger’s voice was sharp. She turned around, but her retort was surprised out of her when she saw him zip up his coat.
“What are you doing?” Juliette demanded.
“I thought God already told you. There’s a girl out there in trouble. Who better to risk his reputation to find her than me? If you’re lucky, I’ll have a new brothel babe for you to adopt by morning. Wouldn’t that be sweet of me?”
Juliette glanced down at him over her glasses. “Are you really serious?”
“You said you wanted me to rescue a girl. Well, here I go. I’m off to rescue a girl.” Roger strode past, swaying his arms in exaggerated arches.
“You’re not worried about the managers recognizing you?” Juliette wondered if she should go after him.
“Oh, I’m plenty worried.” He paused and flung his hands out to his sides. “Last time I was there, they threatened to castrate me if I remember right. But you know, my wife can be a very persuasive woman. And it seems like God has it out for me, too, because he sent a messenger tonight to tell me how right you were. We’re supposed to jump back into brothel rescues only two weeks after sending out the Secret Seminary graduates. You were absolutely correct. I just wish I had realized it as soon as you did.” Roger doffed an imaginary hat and feigned a bow.
“You’re really going to the hotel district? Now?” Juliette leaned against the counter. Should she take him up to bed?
“That’s absolutely right. Because far be it from me to ignore the call of God himself, who was so considerate to pass his marching orders on to you first. Don’t worry. I’ll be home in time to get ready for work first thing in the morning, if the hotel managers don’t call the police to arrest me on sight, that is.”
Roger marched himself out the door into the dark night. Juliette gawked after him, her hand still on one of the open cupboard doors.
***
Agent Ko made sure nobody could overhear before dialing the number for headquarters. “It’s me. I’m scheduled to check in with the director.”
“Hi there, Ko. The director said you might call in today.”
“Chun-Hee?” Ko thought about ending the call right then.
“You recognized my voice. How touching.”
“How could I forget? It’s got that squealing-pig quality that’s so endearing.”
“Nice one. Well, how are things? I’m just dying to hear how that little security guard from Yanji is doing.” Chun-Hee’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but Ko wouldn’t be baited.
“Digging fences. Not much else.”
“You must get terribly bored,” Chun-Hee sang out in a nasally tone. “How long do you think the director plans to keep you there?”
“As long as my country needs me.”
“That’s right,” Chun-Hee taunted melodically. “Serving the Party one tray of tea at a time. Not quite what we expected when we were at the Academy together, I’d dare wager.”
Training with Chun-Hee was the last thing Ko wanted to think about. “Does the director have any messages for me?”
“Just one. He says to tell you they found the spy named Simon. I take it you knew him?”
Ko smiled inwardly but wouldn’t gloat. Not now. There would be time for that later. “Yeah. Anything else?”
“Not officially. You can go back to caring for your little American family. And call me if you ever get in trouble, all right? For old time’s sake. It’ll be just like the Academy.”
Ko punched the button to end the call before Chun-Hee could say anything else.
CHAPTER 30
Roger rubbed his thinning hair. Why had he let his wife talk him into this? What had he been thinking? With the house empty now, he had encouraged Juliette to spend some time on herself, to pursue some of the hobbies she had always put off when their daughter was little. She had often expressed interest in creating her own line of children’s picture books, and Roger even offered to turn the den into an artist’s studio. But she wanted something more. She needed people. People she could teach. People she could talk to. People she could nurture and watch grow. Roger couldn’t offer that, not out of thin air. And so here he was, on the outskirts of the hotel district. And what was he supposed to do — ask around to see if someone’s nameless sister was working behind any of the curtained windows?
Another reason he had been so reluctant to go along with Juliette’s plan was because he knew what it would do to their relationship. He was sure Juliette would deny it if he ever found the guts to bring it up, but her temperament changed each and every time he got back from the brothel, whether his visit had been a success or not. She held herself a little higher around him, resisted his advances with an abnormal coolness. And even though he’d never admit it out loud, Roger always needed a few days after his visits before he could just fall back into his regular marital routine.
With his hands in his pockets, he glowered at the puddles on the ground. What did Juliette expect would happen? A trapped girl would lean out of the window, waving a flag and shouting, “Rescue me! Rescue me!”? He had no business being out this late. He had work to do in the morning. Work he couldn’t complete if he spent his evenings prancing up and down the hotel district, hoping for some needy damsel to fall from the sky.
Roger glared at his watch. He had waited long enough. He turned toward home, hoping Juliette’s mid-life crisis wouldn’t translate into more sleepless nights in the hotel district. She really needed to find some other sort of diversion: yoga, Sudoku, anything. In the chilly autumn air, Roger toyed with the idea of buying her a puppy. Maybe that would satisfy her need to be useful and loved, at least for a little while. He blew on his hands to keep them warm. Would it even be worth trying to sleep once he got home? The orders at the office kept pouring in, and Roger was behind on paperwork. He wished Juliette tackled secretarial duties with the same zeal she bestowed on the desperate and downtrodden.
He thought about her behavior when the young man came to their home earlier that night. It was a perfect example of how Juliette’s passion was a nuisance at best and a danger at worst. If that refugee hadn’t come around with his sob story of his lost sister, she would have fallen asleep, her tummy full of hot chocolate, her conscience easy. And then Roger could have nabbed some sleep, too.<
br />
Sleep. He’d be lucky if he got three hours by morning. He wrapped his coat tight around his chest and strained against the wind. He was out of the main district now, where the street lights weren’t as close together. He turned once to glance over his shoulder and for a moment wished he wasn’t out here alone. A vague form stumbled across the street. He stopped beneath a street lamp and strained his eyes.
She dragged herself along in slow motion, a shadow in a short-fitting dress. She stumbled toward an alleyway. Roger studied his surroundings. The streets were deserted. If she had looked behind, if she had made any indication she noticed him, Roger would know it was a setup — a trap meant to lure compassionate foreigners. He would be wary, but he would at least check to make sure she was all right. A young girl alone on the streets on a night like this ... Roger thought about his daughter back in the States and shivered from the chill. He quickened his pace as he crossed the street.
***
Mee-Kyong collapsed in the dark passageway. She didn’t know how far she had walked, but she must be at least a kilometer or more away from the Round Robin by now. She slid herself to the ground, sucking in cold air through her teeth.
She had nothing, just Sun’s old torn dress. She had rushed so fast out of the building, she left the bundle of clothes behind. For the hundredth time or more, she recalled each feature of the murderer’s face. Jae. Sun called him Jae. Mee-Kyong wouldn’t forget. But now, she just needed rest. With goose bumps dancing up and down her arms, she hugged herself. She wouldn’t even try to lie down. Not tonight. The injury to her ribs was no worse than what she had experienced with Pang. In two or three days, the searing pain would turn to soreness. A week or so after that, and she would feel almost back to normal. At least she would be able to breathe again without feeling like she would pass out.
Her entire body begged for sleep, but whenever she closed her eyes, she saw those blood-stained sheets. She wished she could stop shivering — it only made the pain in her rib that much worse.