haunted mansion. I had made sure that her heart would never beat again.
“Seol?”
The sound of her voice drew me back, sending a surge of tremors through me. Woorim couldn’t move, tied up as she was, but she managed to lift her head ever so slightly to look my way. Her forehead crinkled, her tiny lips opened as trembling words wobbled out. “Seol, is that you?”
“I-i-it is.” I couldn’t believe it: she was alive. “Woorim!”
Panic widened her eyes, and words rushed out from her. “We don’t have time. They will come back soon!”
“Shh, shh.” I crouched before her, so relieved my head swirled with lightness. “The police have come. You are safe.”
Her eyes remained wide as I untied her wrists and her ankles. Then I held her arm, and with whatever strength remained in me, I gritted my teeth against the burning pain in my shoulder and hoisted her up onto her feet. I kept her steady as we both staggered through the tunnel. We squinted as we neared the mouth, the pitch darkness of the cave chased back by the skylight. It was almost dawn now.
“Seol-ah,” Woorim whispered, tears dribbling down her cheeks, showing streaks of skin beneath the blood. “I thought the morning would never come.”
The fragile beauty of the sky-lit forest yawned around us, the beams of light streaming in through the branches touching my face and reaching their arms into my soul. Never had I imagined this day would come—the end to darkness. I had succumbed to a hopelessness that had colored my world in storm-cloud gray, a hopelessness that swore the end would always remain unreachable, like home, like all my dreams, a distant land I knew of only from its faraway echoes. But it was over. The investigation was over.
I let out a breath and whispered, “Finally.”
At the sound of crunching snow, I glanced over to see Councillor Ch’oi weaving through the crowd, and I was not surprised. Every moment possible, the councillor had made his way back to his bastard son, as though pulled toward him by their blood ties, but also by shame. This time, the councillor’s face was pale, and he appeared a decade older as he stopped before the monster he’d created through neglect.
“You mutilated a living girl. You killed four others,” Councillor Ch’oi said, his brows knitted over eyes wide with disbelief. “Compassion, sympathy, and empathy. Could you not feel them when you were hurting your poor victims?”
Officer Shim remained still, kneeling on the forest floor. It took him an entire minute to muster enough strength to speak, and even then, his voice shook. “You … you begged Inspector Han to deliver the priest to you, but he wanted to kill the priest himself. So I did what the inspector refused to do: I offered to help you catch the priest.” All the confusion in the world seemed to cram into the dark pool of his eyes as he looked up at Councillor Ch’oi. “Is that not what sons are for?”
Silence stretched as Councillor Ch’oi continued to stare down at his son. Shim turned away; he must have seen pity in His Lordship’s gaze. Pity from one’s father was the worst humiliation.
“Suicide.” Everyone’s attention snapped back to Councillor Ch’oi as he spoke. “It is an accepted practice according to the customs of Joseon. A military officer who has served the Capital Police Bureau for years should be permitted to end his life honorably.”
Above us, the trees hushed, as though a ripple of dread had passed through the forest. The snow crunched as officers shifted on their feet, uneasy, while Shim stared at the gleaming object in the councillor’s hand, a dagger drawn out. Perhaps Shim was wondering whether a little blade could truly empty the blood from his body, and how fast the blood would drip. As he looked up at the spectators, a flurry of emotions seemed to cross his pale countenance—his realization and horror at what had been done, his feelings of personal guilt, his wish for death and yet fear of execution, the shame of being spared.
Before I could even close my eyes, Shim scrambled toward his father, taking the soldiers off guard. It seemed the fear of shame was greatest, the fear of being called Ji-Won again. His bound wrists moved and his fingers strained for the knife, but just then, Inspector Han swept forward, grabbed his old friend by the shoulder, and threw him down to the frozen ground.