“Are you looking for Miss Park?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said hesitantly. Junyoung didn’t know her name, but he did know she wore full-coverage pantyhose every day. When she went to use the restroom, it took her forever to pull them back up, something that simultaneously amused and irritated him. “Have you seen her? We had lunch plans, but I haven’t heard anything from her all day. Thought I’d check in.”
The woman leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “She didn’t show up to work today. Our managercalled her emergency contacts—her parents—and they had no idea where she was, either. She’s gone missing.”
Junyoung’s eyes widened. “Missing?”
The woman nodded vigorously.
“What do you mean by that? Did they call the police?” Junyoung asked.
“I don’t know. Supposedly, her parents insisted on handling everything on their own. I hope everything is okay. I don’t know Miss Park all that well, but … she’s very nice. Are you two good friends?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“I’m glad she has friends in the building. On our floor, she mostly keeps to herself. I’ve always worried about her, you know, with her being so young and all …” She trailed off. “And Mr. Lee has been giving her some trouble over the past few weeks. It’s unnecessary. She’s smart and, from what I can see, a hard worker. She usually gets here before me. Granted, I have children, so …” The woman let out an awkward laugh.
“By any chance, has she mentioned somebody named Hyukjoon to you?” Junyoung asked.
The woman frowned. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Like I said, we don’t talk much. Is that her boyfriend?”
“No. He’s a mutual friend,” Junyoung said quickly. “I was wondering if he had anything to do with all of this. Anyway, I don’t mean to intrude, but if you hear any news about Miss Park, would you mind contacting me? I’m going to be worrying all day.”
“Oh, of course,” the woman said. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling.”
You have no idea, Junyoung thought. He paused, then added, “My extension is 4613. Call me anytime.”
Dahye tried to sneak into her apartment, but as soon as the door cracked open, her mother rushed to deliver an ear-splitting slap across her face. The whole room shook as Dahye fell to her knees. Tears glistened in her eyes.
“Where have you been?” her mother said. “We called your phone over a hundred times! Your father has been worried sick—”
Dahye glanced at her father, doubting the veracity of that statement. As always, Abeoji was stone-faced. He sat motionless on the couch, staring at his hands. She touched her stinging cheek.
“All day we’ve been getting calls about you. Your friends. Yourwork, for god’s sake. I thought that was theonething you had together. We didn’t evenknowyou were missing. We thought you had gone to work early this morning. Imagine our surprise when your manager asked if we had contacted the police yet.”
Dahye flinched as her mother’s hand came flying toward her face again. Omoni’s fingernails clipped the surface of the skin, narrowly missing her cheek.
“Stop!” Dahye cried. “Please stop!”
“You embarrassed us. What if the police showed up here? What if the neighbors saw? After everything that’s happened.”
After everything that’s happened.
When the police visited their home to tell them what had happened to Eunhye, the neighbors didn’t even wait for an hour before brazenly knocking on their door. Neither Omoni nor Abeoji would tell them anything. Soon, the whispers began with fervor. Every time the windows were open, Dahye could hear the neighbors talking about them.
“There’s something wrong with that family. Did you hear? Their oldest daughter killed herself. Jumped from a bridge.”
“What a waste. She was a beautiful girl. Smart, too, and respectful. Always said hello whenever I ran into her.”
“Truly. It’s always the parents’ fault. Bad genes. You know how it goes.”
Dahye’s ears had burned, and she had looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway. Omoni had heard everything. Her hands were curled, and she had been shaking. Dahye would never forget her mother’s expression. The pain in it still made Dahye’s skin crawl.
“Did you call him back?” Omoni demanded.
Snapping back to attention, Dahye got to her feet unsteadily. “Call who?”
“Your manager.”