Chapter 18
Hello?” Dahye said tentatively.
She touched him gingerly, trying to feel for a pulse. His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, and both sides of his neck were already showing deep purple bruises. His eyes were blank and unseeing.
“Oh god.” Dahye backed away until she was touching the door of the stall, her heart hammering in her chest. “Oh god. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“He deserved it,” Eunhye said. She stared at the motionless figure on the floor.
“I didn’t mean to kill—”
“You didn’t do anything. He did it to himself,” Eunhye said. Water dripped from Eunhye’s hair onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. Seized with terror, Dahye looked at the dead man, then covered her face with her hands. Turning to Eunhye, she mouthed, “What do I do? How do I get out of here?”
Eunhye’s expression was solemn. “When I tell you to go … climb over the top and into the next stall.” Following her sister’s eyes, she added, “Leave this door locked.”
Dahye glanced up. It seemed awfully high, but the gap in the bottom was far too small for her to be able to go under. “Okay,” she breathed. “And then?”
“Pull your hood up. Avoid eye contact. Take your time leaving the club. Then run home.”
Dahye nodded as Eunhye crawled up the wall and disappeared into the vent in the ceiling.
Turning so that she no longer had to look at Bobby’s body, Dahye waited, listening hard.
What was Eunhye doing? And was it her imagination, or did the music seem quieter?
She could hear the bathroom door swinging open and closed, people coming and going.
An image, long buried in her memory, flashed in her mind: The family had gone to Busan, and while sightseeing, Dahye had gotten separated from them.
Alone, she had stood and watched as crowds of people passed by, her throat tight with tears.
Seconds turned to minutes, and Dahye had been certain that she was forever lost. Then Eunhye had appeared—
The music in the club stopped abruptly, and Dahye looked up at the vent. It was still empty. Seconds later, the music started back up with a roar of static.
“Party foul,” the DJ yelled into the microphone.
Eunhye’s blackened fingers curled around the edge of the vent, her face appearing between the slats. “Go,” she hissed. “The bathroom is empty. Now!”
Dahye didn’t hesitate. She stepped over Bobby’s torso and climbed onto the toilet seat. Hooking her arms over the top of the next stall, she lifted herself up, looking down at the body sprawled out below her.
Eunhye’s voice echoed through the vent. “Hurry!”
Dahye scrambled over and dropped to her feet. The impact vibrated through her sore knees. She paused for a second, suddenly dizzy, then dashed out of the bathroom without looking back.
There was no sign of Hyukjoon. The table he had been sitting at was now empty.
+
By the time Dahye returned to Sillim, it was midmorning.
She had moved slowly, not trusting the taxis or the subway, checking frequently to make sure she wasn’t being followed.
The adrenaline kept her tiredness at bay, and the people heading to work hardly gave her a second glance.
When she finally made it to Bora’s officetel, she found her best friend waiting on the street, pacing back and forth.
Bora, hearing Dahye’s footsteps approach, sprinted down the sidewalk.
“Where were you?” she asked, grasping Dahye by the shoulders. “Did you see that I called?”
“No. My phone is dead,” Dahye said. “What are you doing outside?”
“Waiting for you,” Bora said tiredly. “I was worried. I was getting ready to call the police.” She pressed her hand against Dahye’s cheek. “Are you okay? Where were you all night?” Bora frowned, leaning forward with a sniff. “You smell like cigarettes and booze.”
“I went for a walk.” Dahye paused, realizing how absurd that statement was. “To clear my head.”
“Do you feel any better? Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some ramyun.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Dahye.” Bora sounded frustrated. “You can’t starve yourself like this. You’re wasting away. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You have to eat.”
“You’re not my mother,” Dahye snapped. “I can take care of myself.” Without waiting for Bora, she stormed inside.
She threw herself onto Bora’s bed, feigning sleepiness, and heard the mattress squeak as Bora lay next to her.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Bobby’s body and the way it looked, lying on the bathroom floor.
He had tried to overpower her, and now he was dead.
He wouldn’t be found for hours. Probably not until the last lingering patrons of the club were gone and the cleaning crews made their way into the bathrooms.
Would she get caught?
No. Of that, she was certain. If there were cameras outside of the restroom, they would show him entering of his own volition.
More than likely, it would seem like a drunken accident.
And anyway, she hadn’t done anything wrong.
As far as anyone could tell, he had gotten drunk and passed out and broken his neck. It had nothing to do with her.
Dahye had just begun to doze when Bora’s voice cut through the fog. “You can’t keep shutting me out,” Bora said quietly. “I’m trying to help you, but you’re not making it easy for me.”
“Easy for you?” Dahye snapped awake, pushing herself upright. She looked at Bora, her mouth growing hard.
Bora blinked rapidly. “I thought you were asleep,” she said. “I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Then what did you mean? Do you know what I’ve been through tonight? How fucking terrible everything has been?”
“Of course I know. I’ve been here the whole time. You act like I haven’t done anything—”
“I never said that. You love to make yourself the victim.”
“Don’t twist my words, Dahye. It’s like your mother said—”
“My mother?”
Bora blanched. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Dahye let out a sharp breath, remembering how Bora had behaved at the police station. How ignorant she had been to Dahye’s despair then and how ignorant she was even now.
A terrible thought struck her: If Bora hadn’t begged Dahye to talk to Hyukjoon that night, begged for those fucking cigarettes, none of this would have happened.
“Of course you didn’t mean it,” she snarled, venom burning in her veins.
“You never mean it. You’ve always been fucking selfish.
Even when we were kids. Always ordering me around. ”
“Where is this coming from? This isn’t you.” Bora stared anxiously into Dahye’s face. “Come on. You need food and sleep. We can talk about this tonight, when we’re both rested.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Bora. You’re not going to save me, no matter how badly you want to.” Dahye blinked, and she was back in the stall. The bass was reverberating in her chest. She saw her reflection in a puddle on the floor and Bobby’s body frozen in a sickening angle.
He deserved it, she thought. A loud sob brought her back to the present, to Bora’s crying, hunched figure. There was so much anguish in her face that Dahye almost felt sorry. “I’ll go,” she said, rising unsteadily to her feet. “If I stay, I’ll only cause you pain.”
“No!” Bora looked around wildly. “You can’t. Where will you go?”
“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.” She paused, glancing toward the bathroom. The faucet had begun to drip. “I always have.”
Dahye’s suitcase—the one her mother had packed—lay on the floor by the bed. She hadn’t opened it once. She picked it up and dragged it across the floor.
“Please don’t go,” Bora croaked. “Dahye. I’m begging you. If you walk out that door, I will never forgive you.”
Dahye paused, one hand on the doorknob. Bobby’s raging visage appeared before her for just a moment, before transforming into Hyukjoon’s beautiful face.
“I don’t need your forgiveness,” she said.