The Silence of Bones - June Hur Page 0,79

below her. Sticky blood glistened in her hair as she struggled and crawled toward me. She looked shocked. We were both shocked. We had only meant for this to be a simple excursion to a haunted mansion.

Footsteps echoed in the distance. Pedestrians. The man in the bamboo hat stared at me for a lingering moment, and then his outstretched fingers seized Woorim’s hair again. The veins in her forehead protruded, her eyes reddened as she grabbed both my hands. “Seol, please help me!”

I clutched tightly, and the more desperately I clung, the more the throbbing pain along my ribs and head intensified. And then she slipped away, leaving my hands empty. He dragged her for ten, fifteen, twenty paces. At the end of the stone walls, where the street branched out into different directions, they both vanished around the corner.

Woorim. Clenching my teeth, I lurched onto my feet again and staggered forward, my breath rushing in and out of me. Why was she so silent now? What was happening beyond this street, around the dark corner? I drew closer to it, then stopped.

“All done, sir,” a male voice rasped, somewhere deep in the shadows. “I’ve secured her.”

I took a step back, slack-jawed. There was more than one man in the alley, and even Bamboo Hat was already too strong for me. His fist had struck me like an iron ball hurled at my heart. I needed help, but when I listened over my shoulder, the neighborhood was silent. The footsteps I’d heard earlier had disappeared.

My skin prickled. Someone was watching me. Time slowed into a heavy twisting as I faced ahead and saw Bamboo Hat. Light gleamed from his hand.

A dagger, its blade reflecting flashes of red through my mind.

“H-help,” my voice cracked. “Help, s-someone.”

My knees wobbled in my attempt to run, and instead of a mighty sprint forward, I staggered and crawled in turns. Pathetic, a voice whispered. This is how you’ll die. Butchered alive. Tears sprang to my eyes as I felt the shadow of death closing in on me. My skirt tangled around my stumbling feet, and gravity slammed me onto the road, knocking my breath out and scraping skin off. Over, it is over. I curled into a ball as his footsteps crunched behind me, growing louder.

Hands over head, coiling myself tighter, I braced myself.

Seol-ah.

My eyes were squeezed shut, but at the sound of the familiar voice, I blinked into the darkness of my shell. Seol-ah, everyone dies, Lady Kang reminded me. What is difficult is a meaningful death.

Her words flipped through pages of memories, of Woorim’s eyes, lighting up as she gossiped, her colorful voice brimming with enthusiasm, with life. Woorim the first time we’d met, her waiting before the police bureau. Sst. Our eyes had met, and she had smiled, a warm hand of friendship extended.

This was all I’d needed. This was enough.

My fingers curled, digging into the ground, filling my palm. If I was going to die, then I would die without shame. The moment his footsteps were right behind me, I whipped myself around and flung out my hand. Dirt and pebbles sprayed at him, and I rushed to my feet again, running this time the way I’d raced the village boys: chin up, fingers arrow straight, the balls of my feet bouncing off the ground. A quick glance behind and I saw the man on all fours, his back turned, scrambling to tie the scarf back onto his face.

This was my last chance.

I dashed down paths, cutting through alleys, and unable to stop in time, slammed into the gate of Lady Kang’s mansion. I clung to the door, waiting out the burning throb that pulsed throughout my body. At last I managed to collect myself. “Lady Kang!” I choked out, banging on the door. “Lady Kang!” I squeezed my eyes shut, and I couldn’t unsee Woorim being dragged away by the hair, like she was nothing more than a slab of meat. Who could be this cruel? This evil?

A voice behind the door called out, “On my way!”

Hope flared up with an intensity that left me trembling. Lady Kang would help, she’d send forth an army of servants to rescue her. Woorim might live! I raised my fist to knock again—faster, run faster, ajusshi!—but my wrist caught onto something and would not budge. Someone’s hand tightened around mine, and I froze in alarm, staring wide-eyed as the gate creaked open.

“Wh-what is happening here?” the gatekeeper asked.

“Return inside, ajusshi.” It was a

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