Miyoung felt the heat of their eyes on her. Burning points into her skin like someone had lit Jaegil’s cigarettes and held them to her.
It felt like the world was shattering around her just as the window had.
She tasted acidic bile as her fear turned to nausea.
“Run! Get out of here,” Jihoon said.
“What?” She couldn’t understand what he meant. Weren’t the police coming? Wasn’t she going to get arrested? Her identity would be revealed. Her mother would have to clean up her mess, again. Would Yena kill Jihoon when she found out about everything? Her fault, all her fault.
Jaegil and Seho gave shouts of alarm before they took off, the store owner chasing them down the street.
“You have to leave before the police get here.” Jihoon shoved her so she stumbled a half-dozen steps away.
She let the momentum carry her, until she was jogging, then running, then sprinting.
14
JIHOON SAT IN a hard chair against a faded beige wall. A dozen police officers sat at desks placed in random jigsaw patterns around the room.
He’d only been in a police station once before, when his mother had dragged him there to shout at the officer who’d arrested his father. A bad memory compounded by his current discomfort. And the cop currently questioning him wasn’t helping.
“So tell me again, how did you break the window?” It was a question Jihoon had answered at least a dozen times already.
“A rock.” He kept his answers short. Less chance of getting caught in a lie that way.
“Why?”
Good question, Jihoon thought. Why had he decided to cover for Miyoung? It wasn’t necessarily because he felt protective of Miyoung. Lord knew she didn’t need someone to take care of her. Perhaps it was because he knew she’d expected him to do nothing. Jihoon wanted to show her she was wrong. That he cared about her.
Wait. Did he care about Miyoung?
Before he could dwell on that new thought, the officer spoke again. “And the kids that ran. They weren’t involved?”
“No.”
“Listen, kid. I don’t have time for this. You’re facing actual charges here.”
“I know.” Jihoon didn’t mean to sound glib, but short answers would do that.
“I am this close to losing my temper.” The officer leaned over the desk so spittle flew and hit Jihoon on the cheek.
“Officer Noh, why don’t you take a break?” The detective standing beside them had a calm voice and sharp eyes. Those eyes looked like they saw everything. They worried Jihoon more than the officer’s wrath could. “I’ll finish this up.”
The detective’s desk was a cluttered mess. Files stacked haphazardly against a box that held a mix of random tchotchkes. Jihoon spotted a Lotte Giants mug, a small wooden frame with a faded picture of a baby, and a large wooden cross with scripture carved into it: “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their cry. Psalm 34:15.”
Detective Hae read the file he’d taken from the officer’s desk. His square jaw and salt-and-pepper hair reminded Jihoon of the distinguished actors in the period dramas Jihoon’s halmeoni liked. He imagined the man wearing the large robes of a noble, yelling about the honor of the country.
“So you broke a window, and you’ve decided the best response is to be rude to a police officer?”
“It wasn’t an active decision,” Jihoon said. The detective frowned and he added, “Sir.”
“Do you realize you’re in a fair bit of trouble?” Detective Hae glanced down at a paper in his hand. “Ahn Jihoon.”
Jihoon turned to his manners. “I understand, sir.”
“The store owner also says you weren’t alone.”
Jihoon nodded; something about this detective made it infinitely harder to lie. “No, sir. But I’ve confessed.”
“Yes, you are the one who’s confessed.” Detective Hae said this in a way that made Jihoon think the man saw right through him. “The store owner wanted to press charges.” The detective spoke in a lecturing tone. Jihoon bristled at it, but kept his head bowed in respect. “However, your halmeoni was able to change his mind.”
For the first time, Jihoon felt fear. His eyes darted around the police station, looking for his halmeoni with more apprehension than he’d felt at the previous officer’s harsh interrogation.
The detective let out a chuckle, which brought Jihoon’s eyes flying back to the man.
“It’s good to see you respect her. Your halmeoni is quite a woman. It’s a pity her reputation might be tarnished by this.”
Now tendrils of guilt curled through Jihoon. This wouldn’t affect the restaurant, would it?