CHAPTER 8
As soon as he hung up, Chung-Hee called his assistant. San answered on the first ring.
“Good morning, Mr. Lee. Why are you calling so early?”
A brief silence followed.
“Noeul Jung tried to commit suicide yesterday. He’s in the hospital.”
“Tell me how I can help.”
Chung-Hee knew San had noticed the change in him. More than once, he had caught his assistant watching him through the rearview mirror while he scrolled absentmindedly through photos of Noeul on his tablet.
“First, cancel all my appointments for the entire week and reschedule them after Thursday, based on priority and urgency. Second, I want to be in New York tomorrow. Arrange the flight, hotel, and transportation as soon as possible.”
“But, boss…”
“No excuses, San. Just follow my instructions. There is no margin for error.”
“Understood,” San said.
“Also, find Noeul’s father’s phone number and address. Have one of our lawyers prepare an authorization allowing me to bring him back to Korea. I want everything ready by noon.”
Within an hour, the authorization, along with the phone number and address of Mr. Seojun Jung, was already on Chung-Hee’s desk.
After taking a slow breath, Chung-Hee dialed the unfamiliar number. A month earlier, if someone had told him he would one day call Gong’s father, he would have laughed.
When Mr. Jung answered, Chung-Hee spoke without hesitation. “Mr. Jung. This is Lee Chung-Hee, Haneul’s brother.”
Mr. Jung was silent for a beat. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained. “What do you want from me, Mr. Lee?”
“I’m calling about Noeul.”
“What happened to my son?” Mr. Jung asked immediately. “How do you know him?”
“I need to tell you something important. May I come to your home?”
Mr. Jung hesitated. “…Yes. Of course.”
“I’d like to come right away. It’s urgent.”
“All right,” Mr. Jung replied, his voice trembling. “I’ll be waiting.”
Noeul’s home had not changed much since the last time Haneul had visited. Chung-Hee knew it well; his brother used to send him photos from there, with Noeul and their friends.
The small living room greeted him as soon as he stepped inside the apartment. All three members of Noeul’s family were waiting for him, each with a cup of coffee on the large wooden table. There was no sign of luxury, except for the paintings hanging on the walls. Perhaps some of them were Noeul’s.
“You must be Ji-Woo. Your brother has spoken to me about you. He loves you and is very proud of you.”
The Jung family stared at him in disbelief. Ji-Woo only stared at him in silence, so his mother stepped in.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I won’t stay long. I understand my visit is unexpected, so I’ll get straight to the point.”
A brief pause.
“Noeul attempted suicide yesterday.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Mrs. Jung’s face went pale.
“That’s impossible,” Ji-Woo said first, his fists clenching. “There’s no way hyung would do something like that. We spoke a few days ago. He was fine.”
Chung-Hee took a slow breath. “He resigned from his position at the company and returned home. Unfortunately, he attempted to harm himself by cutting his wrists. The injuries were severe. He underwent emergency surgery, but he will make a full recovery.”
“Who saved him?” Mr. Jung asked, speaking for the first time. “You said he was home. Something doesn’t add up.”
“One of my associates. His resignation took me by surprise, so I had someone discreetly keeping an eye on him. They were able to intervene immediately and call for medical assistance.”
“I don’t trust you!” Ji-Woo exploded, slamming his hand onto the table. “You came here just to watch us suffer for what Gong hyung did to your brother!” He stood abruptly.
Chung-Hee stood as well. “The debt your family owes mine is a separate matter,” he said coldly. “Don’t provoke me.”
Ji-Woo froze.
“I am older than you,” Chung-Hee continued, his voice steady. “Watch how you speak to me.”
Without another word, Ji-Woo returned to his seat, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
Chung-Hee took out his phone and dialed a number. “When you have a moment, send me photos of Noeul in the hospital.”
The first notification arrived seconds later. Everyone in the room, including Chung-Hee, fell silent at the sight of Noeul lying unconscious in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around his wrists.
Mrs. Jung’s eyes filled with tears. “Why, Noeul?” she sobbed. “My sweet boy… You’ve suffered so much.” Her voice broke. “Why couldn’t I protect you? What sin have I committed to watch my children suffer like this?”
Mr. Jung stared at the screen in silence before moving closer to his wife.
“I can help Noeul,” Chung-Hee said quietly. “But I’ll need your help.”
Ji-Woo’s gaze snapped toward him. “Why would you help him?” he asked. “He’s the spitting image of Gong hyung. Isn’t that the last thing you want to see?”
“If I had the chance to change his face, I would,” Chung-Hee replied without hesitation. “It disturbs me that he looks so much like Gong. But I don’t resent him. He was Haneul’s dearest friend.”
“And now,” Mr. Jung asked, “what are we supposed to do?”
“No, dad,” Ji-Woo said immediately. “I won’t accept this. He has his own motives. He’ll destroy hyung.”
Chung-Hee gave a humorless smile. “If I wanted to harm him, I would have let him die.”
“So you want to punish him for what happened to your brother!”
Chung-Hee’s composure cracked. “I want to protect Noeul,” he said, his voice rising for the first time, “because it was my brother’s last wish.”
Silence.
Mrs. Jung slowly lifted her head. “What?” she whispered.
Chung-Hee buried his face in his hands. It was the first time he had shared his brother’s final wish.
“Haneul himself asked me to forgive him… and to protect him. Do you understand now?”
The Jung family sat in stunned silence.
“If that’s really true,” Ji-Woo said at last, “where were you all this time? Where were you when he was alone? When everyone pushed him away? When they pointed fingers at him as if he were the one to blame?” His voice cracked. “No. You’re lying. I’m the one who should support him, not you.”
“Tell us what you need,” Mr. Jung said quietly. He turned to his younger son. “Ji-Woo, we already lost Gong. Noeul is in terrible condition. I can’t lose you too.” He paused. “You’re only seventeen. If you give up everything to take care of your brother, what will become of your future?”
Ji-Woo’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re talking about my brother,” he whispered. “I’d give up everything for him.”
Mr. Jung looked back at Chung-Hee. “Tell me what you need.”
“Please sign these two forms. The first authorizes me to coordinate Noeul’s return to Korea on behalf of the family, transportation, hospital communication, whatever is necessary.”
Mr. Jung looked down at the second document. “And this?”
“My lawyers prepared it for the hospital. If his doctors determine that Noeul isn’t currently capable of making medical decisions for himself, they’ll need a family representative involved in his care. You’re his father.”
Chung-Hee kept his expression neutral. He had no intention of leaving that determination entirely to chance.
Ji-Woo shot to his feet. “No!”
He lunged forward and grabbed Chung-Hee by the collar. “You want to control him!”
Chung-Hee caught the teenager’s wrists and pushed him back. “Listen to me,” he said sharply. “I can’t declare your brother incapable, and neither can your father. His doctors decide that. But he just tried to end his life. I’m making sure we’re prepared for whatever they decide.”
He let his words sink in for a moment, then continued. “Your brother just attempted to end his life. Do you really believe he won’t try again?”
Ji-Woo froze.
“He left believing his death would lessen your pain. He told me he has been struggling with suicidal thoughts for over a year.”
“Do you think he’ll come back after this?” Chung-Hee continued. “No.” He placed the documents on the coffee table. “Call him. If Noeul tells you the truth and agrees to return, your father won’t need to sign these documents.”
A pause.
“But if he lies to you…” His voice dropped. “…you’ll soon be attending his funeral.”
Silence settled over the room.
Chung-Hee walked toward the door. Before opening it, he looked back. “I’ll return tonight. Let me know your decision by then.”
He rested his hand on the doorknob. “My flight leaves at five tomorrow morning.”