So Officer Shim had lied for the inspector—to hide what for him?
There were footsteps outside, and someone called, “Misu? Misuuuu.”
Misu clamped her hands over her lips. “You need to go,” she said in a harsh whisper. “And that robe, give it here!”
I clutched the robe tighter and strode out of the room, not daring to lift my face as I passed by whoever had been calling out Misu’s name. I did not know where I was heading, everything shaking within me, but I continued to walk. One moment I was wandering through a deserted courtyard, and the next moment I was outside on the street, approaching the South Gate. Torchlight glowed high above, like a fallen star, as a watchman walked along the parapet. Then all at once my feet stopped in their tracks, and I found myself staring down at the spot where Lady O had lain.
I saw it now, the pieces fitting together too perfectly.
Shortly before dawn, Soyi had seen Inspector Han heading somewhere, not back home but—as I had learned—back to the House of Bright Flowers. The darkness so deep, the innkeeper and others had not seen the blood on him, and suspecting nothing, they had thought him drunk with wine rather than drunk with shock and terror.
She is dead, she is dead.
I covered my face with my hands. Only moments ago I had wished the inspector’s downfall, if it meant that he would never lay a hand on my family. And now I had in my hands a weapon made of blue silk and blood. I could destroy this man. Me, a mere damo.
THIRTEEN
SECRETS. HOW HEAVY they are, Older Sister had once told me as she’d run her hand across her scalp, pulling free a fistful of hair. They have ruined me.
I had once tried to pry these secrets out from my sister’s husband. Was my sister a criminal? A runaway adulteress? But he had replied, She’s trying to protect you from whatever is hiding in her past. Something made her scared.
I ran my hand down my thick hair, wondering if this would happen to me too. Perhaps the secret would feel so much like death that strands would fall out, leaving bald patches of despair. I wasn’t meant to keep the evidence to myself, yet I didn’t know who to trust, who to confide in. Perhaps many secrets began like this, with fear.
I walked down Jongo Street with a yoke resting on my shoulders, water buckets dangling from either side. I ought to have hidden the robe elsewhere, I thought. Last night, I had shoved the bloodstained robe into the chest packed with my personal belongings, thinking it safest. Everything that was of any value to me went into that chest. But what if, today, someone decided to rummage through it?
I stopped, unable to take another step.
A curious hand needed only to flip the chest lid open and reach in to end my life. They would find a bloody robe, an inspector’s robe, and it would be my turn in the interrogation chair. I quickened my steps, realizing my error. What a foolish place to hide such a secret! I could not run quickly enough. With each step, the image became more vivid, of Damo Hyeyeon holding up the robe in the police courtyard, surrounded by officers.
Water spilled out of the buckets, which were empty by the time I stumbled into the bureau.
There was a crowd. Too late. Inspector Han stood a few paces away, garbed in his flowing uniform of midnight blue, like the one hidden deep inside the wooden chest. He was at the head of the crowd, watching me. My heart pounded, each beat so knife-sharp. It was my first time seeing the inspector since I’d heard Misu’s pale-faced confession.
Misu had referred to Inspector Han’s past as an orphan, a comment I’d overlooked. But now I looked again and what I saw was not a harmless remark but a detail as hideous as an insect with a thousand tiny legs darting about in the shadows. He had come alone to the capital over a decade ago, just like my brother. The coincidences were piling up. What if, I thought. What should I do if he is— Not even my mind could finish the thought, as though it sensed danger lurking at the end of it.
Someone’s cold fingers pinched my shoulder. I gasped back into the present. It was Hyeyeon, dragging me forward as she hissed, “What is wrong with