“Yes?”
“I’m here to deliver some chicken?”
“We didn’t order any delivery.” She moved to close the door.
“Maybe I’m at the wrong house?” Junyoung asked. He looked at his phone and then back at her. “Do you know where Park Dahye lives?”
She stiffened. “There must be some kind of mistake.”
“Ma’am?”
“She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Oh. Well, is there an updated address I can deliver this to?”
“No.” She tried to close the door again, but Junyoung put his hand on the doorjamb.
“Please, ma’am,” he said. “I’m just trying to do my job. If you could just tell me—”
She slammed the door in his face. Junyoung frowned. If this woman was Dahye’s mother, she was rude and off-putting. Not something he wanted in a mother-in-law, he thought, irritated. Hopefully she wouldn’t live long.
Outside, he gave the helmet, the vest, and the bag of chicken back to the impatient driver. “It’s all cold now,” the man complained, and Junyoung, not wanting to fight, handed him another twenty thousand won. The man pocketed it happily before disappearing into the adjacent building.
Junyoung slumped on the ledge, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. He had braved Sillim, made the trek through the dirty streets, risked his life. He had marinated in some other asshole’s sweat and nearly gotten his nose cut off, and for what? He had nothing to show for his efforts. No leads. No information on Dahye’s whereabouts. He sighed, then jerked upright as he noticed a woman walking up the street toward him.
Right away Junyoung’s heart began to pound. He squinted in her direction, only to be met with disappointment.
It wasn’t Dahye. This woman was shorter, with a pinched sort of face. Her chin was long and narrow. The most interesting thing about her was by far her giant knockers. They had to be fake—they looked like overfilled water balloons.
He stared at her chest without shame as she approached the front door of Dahye’s building, seemingly waiting. Severalminutes later, an older woman—the one whom Junyoung thought might be Dahye’s mother—stepped out.
“Eomeonim,” the woman with the enormous breasts said, bowing. “Are you well?”
“It’s good to see you, Bora. Thank you for coming to meet me.”
They muttered a few words Junyoung couldn’t hear. Then the older woman asked, “How is Dahye doing?” At that, Junyoung’s ears perked up. He leaned forward, listening hard.
Bora hesitated. “Not well. She’s been sleeping a lot.”
“Has she said anything about going back to work?”
Bora shook her head. “No,” she said.
“That ridiculous girl. She doesn’t understand that she’s ruining her life,” Dahye’s mother said bitterly, wrapping her arms around herself. She glanced up at the corner window on the third floor. The light had gone out. “Her father is distraught. He doesn’t want her to come back. Not that it matters. The neighbors are up in arms again, spreading rumors that she hasissues, just like Eunhye. If she returns, all they’ll do is talk.” Shaking her head sadly, she asked Bora, “Is she in some kind of trouble? Is she pregnant? Is she … doing drugs?”
“No, nothing like that,” Bora said. “It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll tell you when she’s ready.”
“I don’t know. She’s a complete mystery. She doesn’t seem to care how much she hurts us or embarrasses us. Sometimes I wonder how I ever gave birth to her.” She let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Do you need money?” she asked suddenly, reaching for her pocket. “I don’t expect you to take care of her for free, you know. We’re not … like that.”
Bora stopped her. “No, Eomeonim. We’re fine. You don’t have to worry about Dahye. She”—Bora’s voice cracked—“She’s like a sister to me. I can take care of her.”
+
Bora was a slow walker. Junyoung felt his impatience growing as he stooped behind the line of parked cars separating them. He followed her back to the busy part of Sillim, where, over the last hour, things had gotten noticeably rowdier. The music blared. On the sidewalk, people shoved him as they walked by. Police sirens wailed, flashing lights spilling across the asphalt.
He almost lost Bora while crossing the street. By then, nearly fifteen minutes had passed since they had left Dahye’s parents’ building, and Junyoung couldn’t figure out where they were headed. He spotted her bobbing along on the opposite sidewalk and hurried to catch up.
Stupid girl, Junyoung thought, as he followed her down an empty street. If he wanted to, he could drag her down some dark alleyway and—