“The evidence,” Dahye said, her anger flaring, “is that she was pregnant at the time of her death. If your investigators were competent in the slightest, they would have asked around. Spoken to more witnesses. Nobody thought to bring me in for questioning? I’m her sister! I could have told them.”
At a loss for words, Inspector Kang opened his mouth and closed it again. “I’m very sorry about your sister,” he said. “AndI’m very sorry about what happened to you. But like I said earlier—”
“Isn’t it your job?”
He stopped. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“Your job,” Dahye said, breathing hard. “I thought your job was to protect the people and keep us safe.”
Inspector Kang walked abruptly to the door, flinging it open. Bora had evidently been eavesdropping, and she leapt away, trying to appear nonchalant.
“At this time, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the inspector said, his voice cold. “We’ll reach out to you if there are any leads in your case.”
Much to Junyoung’s dismay, Dahye did not show up to work the next day, or the day after that. And despite waiting around on Bora’s street every night, he saw no sign of Dahye. At least he was able to figure out where Bora lived. On the second evening, he saw her returning from work, her ample bosom heaving. Her face looked tired and unhappy. She hurried into one of the officetels without even a glance in his direction.
In the middle of the workday on the fourth day, Junyoung found himself back on the fifth floor, peeking into Dahye’s cubicle. He was surprised to find that all of Dahye’s belongings had been removed.
There was no more frilly seat cover. No more water bottle. No more sticky pads. All the pink had been taken down, every trace of Dahye’s existence scrubbed clean.
“She quit,” said a quiet, feminine voice behind Junyoung. Startled, he turned to see who it was. It was the same woman from last time. Junyoung had looked her up and learned that hername was Lee Sunhwa. “I was going to call you, but I figured you already knew.”
“No. I had no idea.” He paused, considering. “That seems very sudden.”
Sunhwa frowned. “Yes, it was sudden. She didn’t give any notice whatsoever. Nobody knows why she left, either. She just sent an email formally resigning. Can’t be good for her future job prospects, especially if they ask for a reference check.”
Junyoung returned to his desk in a complete daze. Some part of him had been expecting this, especially given the conversation he had overheard between Dahye’s mother and her friend, but it had physically pained him to see the empty cubicle.
The blinds to Mr. Choi’s office were closed, which meant that he did not want any visitors, but Junyoung rapped his knuckles against the glass door anyway. There was no answer. Junyoung knocked again. “Sir?” he asked meekly.
“Who is it? What do you want?” Mr. Choi boomed, sounding irritated.
Junyoung pushed the door open. Poked his head in. “Hello, Mr. Choi. It’s me. Junyoung.”
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well. I think it’s best if I go home early,” Junyoung said. Mr. Choi squinted at him, clenching his jaw. “That is,” Junyoung added hastily, “if you’ll allow it.”
Mr. Choi’s office was sparsely decorated, the space mostly taken up by an enormous desk. Piles of paper were stacked everywhere on top of it, and Junyoung’s fingers itched to organize them. Someone had attached a floating shelf to the wall on which dozens of glittering trophies were displayed. Junyoung peered at their inscriptions.MANAGER OF THE YEAR2010, the closest one read.MANAGER OF THE YEAR 2012. MANAGER OF THE YEAR 2016.
“Get out.”
“Sir?” Junyoung asked.
“I said, get out.”
“But does that mean I can …”
“I don’t care what you do.”
“Oh. Well, in that case … I’ll leave now.”
Junyoung backed out from the office and ran to his cubicle. Thankfully, Kangmin seemed hyperfocused on his work, his shoulders tight with concentration. Not wanting to run into him, Junyoung quickly packed his things and ran into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. He walked through the lobby with his head down. Outside, a light drizzle had begun to fall, and the sky was gray and foreboding. Junyoung huddled under the eaves of the building and called a taxi to Sillim, setting his destination to Bora’s street.
He waited nearly six hours before Dahye finally emerged from the officetel’s front doors. From his vantage point across the street, Junyoung was able to see her clearly. The love of his life looked pale and withdrawn, and she had lost so much weight she was practically swimming in the black hoodie she was wearing. Whatever traumatic event had occurred, it was obvious she wasn’t taking it well. He had the urge to run up to her, wrap his arms tightly around her shoulders. To take her face gently in his palms and kiss her, long and deep, until she forgot all her problems.
All in good time.
He followed her to the subway station but nearly blew his cover when Dahye stopped suddenly in front of a bakery stand. Junyoung cursed under his breath. He feigned taking a wrong turn and circled back toward her as she picked up a pastry,staring at it with a wistful expression. She made it down to the train just as it arrived and got on. It was crowded; Junyoung jumped into the compartment as the doors were closing. He was crammed against the wall. It smelled like old meat, and some bastard’s briefcase was pushed up against his ass, but Junyoung remained unmoving as he stared at Dahye’s reflection in the window.