Wicked Fox (Gumiho #1)(69)

“She keeps secrets. If she knows who hurt you—”



“I told you she wasn’t there when it happened. She found us after.” Jihoon hated lying to Somin, but it was better this way. Safer to keep her in the dark.

Somin shook her head, her eyes conflicted. “That’s not the point. I just think it would be better if you got some kind of closure. You’re so sad all the time, Jihoon-ah. I don’t like it.”

“I’m not sad. I’m just busy.” He brushed off her statement.

“Don’t let your pride get in the way this time.”

“This time?” Jihoon scowled, pretending to read his screen but not absorbing any of the words.

“You think that if you admit you miss people, that means you’re weak,” Somin said. “But maybe it will help you let go.”

“I don’t need your amateur therapy,” Jihoon said, clicking a random answer on the practice quiz and swearing when it came up wrong.

“I just care about you, Jihoon,” Somin said.

That was the problem. Jihoon didn’t want anyone to care about him. It only hurt more when they left.





38





THE HOSPITAL WAS a tall gray building with a large driveway leading to the glass entrance. The signs had been changed to wish everyone a happy Lunar New Year. With it would come the end of January and the beginning of winter break. And the one-month anniversary of Miyoung tearing his life apart and leaving him.

“Jihoon-ah, how did you do during finals?” Nurse Jang asked as he approached the seventh-floor nurses' station.

“Third place in the class.”

“Your halmeoni would be proud.”

Jihoon smiled, a weak impersonation of his old dimple-deep grins.

“Make sure you go home tonight,” Nurse Jang said. “Your halmeoni would not approve of you sleeping over.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The telltale beat of monitors welcomed him as he entered his halmeoni’s room. The second bed sat empty today, but it would be filled again soon enough. They couldn’t afford a private room, but usually the other occupants never stayed that long. Though Jihoon frowned as he remembered the harabeoji who’d last occupied the other bed had seemed fairly ill.

“I’m here, Halmeoni.” Jihoon lowered the humidifier. He took out a stick of lip balm and lifted her oxygen mask to apply it. “If you don’t use this, your lips will get too dry. You hate your skin getting cracked.”

He pulled out a sheet of paper from his bag. “I got third rank during the end-of-the-year exams, Halmeoni. You’d never believe it if you didn’t see it for yourself.”

He spoke with a shred of hope, like this was enough to make her open her eyes for the first time in a month.

She lay still and quiet.

“I know, you’re asking why not first,” Jihoon said conversationally. “I might be more motivated if you were there to nag me.” Still nothing and he let out a dejected sigh.

“Jihoon-ah?”

He turned and spotted Detective Hae. “Ajeossi.”

“How is she today?”

“I think she has more color,” Jihoon said, though he couldn’t be sure.

“She looks good.” Detective Hae gave Jihoon’s shoulder a squeeze. Though it was meant to comfort, it made Jihoon stiffen. Such a paternal gesture was foreign to him. And the detective had a way of making Jihoon wonder what things would be like if he’d had a father figure in his life. It was useless to wonder, though. Jihoon’s father was a criminal and a selfish man. Even if he were around, he wouldn’t be like Detective Hae, who was stable and kind.



Jihoon cleared his throat and glanced toward the other side of the room. “It looks like we’re getting a new neighbor.”

“Yes, Mr. Kim passed away last night. His daughters were talking to the nurses outside just now, poor girls.”

Jihoon’s mouth became dry. The news of death did that to him these days. A sharp fear that he’d soon be the one whispered about with such pity, a poor boy who’d lost someone he loved.

“He didn’t seem that bad off.”

“He’s at peace now and his soul can finally rest.”

“You really believe that?” Jihoon asked. Detective Hae was devoutly Christian. Surprisingly, it had lent Jihoon some comfort in the past month as he tried to come to grips with his halmeoni’s condition.

“Sometimes, in life, we cannot find the salvation we need. If so, it can come in death.”

“Well, sometimes people shouldn’t die so soon. It’s not fair.”

Detective Hae nodded. Jihoon didn’t know if it was agreement or not.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m still your primary contact for the hospital. They called me when you didn’t go to your last appointment.”

Jihoon’s sigh wasn’t directed at the detective, though he was the only one to receive it. When Jihoon was in the hospital after the accident, Detective Hae had taken on the case. Without anyone else to call, the hospital had taken the detective’s contact information. Jihoon had never changed it.

“I told you, if they call me, I’m coming down here to check on you,” Detective Hae said.