The doctors kept Jihoon in the hospital for a few days. They ran tests, took blood, poked, and prodded. No new diagnosis. No new solution. So they discharged him.
Minjae rushed around the room, making sure nothing was left behind as Jihoon took his time pulling on his sneakers. It hurt to bend down, but it felt good to be wearing his own clothes.
"He wasn't here that long. There's nothing for him to leave," Mrs.Park said. She had been pretty shaken but had recovered. Jihoon envied her for being able to stabilize herself so easily while he was the one struggling and hurting like a lost puppy. She had even moved into her old apartment because she knew she would break down if she was there.
"What if he forgets his phone?"
"It's right here." Jihoon lifted his cell in the air, sharing a look of mutual exasperation with his mother.
"What about your charger?"
"Here." his mother held it up.
This was Minjae's coping mechanism. If he could fuss over Jihoon, he would worry less. As Minjae checked under the bed for the third time, for what, Jihoon didn't know, Detective Roger walked in.
Mrs. Park straightened in her chair, lifting her hands to smooth her hair. "Hello, Detective Roger," she said sweetly.
"Soohyun-ssi." He greeted her with a nod, and she blushed at his use of her name. It had taken him almost a month to stop calling her Minjae and Jihoon's eomeoni. "Jihoon-ah, you look ready to go."
"Ready for a while." Jihoon gave a pointed look at Minjae, who opened the bathroom door to check inside.
"Minjae." Detective Roger took his shoulders. "The nurses have the instructions for Jihoon's medication, why don't you go get those?"
he nodded, grateful for the task.
"Detective, you're always able to get things in order. It's a remarkable skill," Mrs. Park said. "I would love to have you over for dinner, to thank you. How about tomorrow night?"
Jihoon was grateful Minjae had stepped out.
"I'd be honored, but I have a church event."
"Your faith is admirable," Mrs. Park said. Jihoon let out a snort and received a flick from her.
"I'm free now," Detective Roger offered.
"Free for what?" Minjae asked, returning with a packet of instructions.
"Just coffee," Mrs. Park said. "Why don't we go to the café on the corner while we wait for Somin to scour the room one last time." Minjae couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Park Jihoon?" A nurse stuck her head in. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know your family was here. We just have a few discharge papers we need to be signed," the nurse explained to Detective Roger, no doubt assuming he was the father in a happy nuclear family. Jihoon frowned.
"Sure," Detective Roger said easily, and he followed the nurse, their mother on his heels.
"It shouldn't bother you," Minjae said, and Jihoon jumped. He'd forgotten he was still there.
"What are you talking about?" Jihoon concentrated on gathering his bag instead of looking at Somin.
"Detective Roger. He does take a liking to our mother."
He knew Minjae was trying to cheer him up, but instead, he felt shame on top of his anger.
"I'm going to go see Halmeoni before we leave. Are you coming?"
"We'll meet you in the lobby."
• • •
The room was dark with the long curtains drawn. Grandma lay with her hands folded over her belly, probably something the nurses had done. She did look more serene this way.
"Grandma." Jihoon took her hand in his. It felt paper light, like her bones were as hollow as a bird's. "I'm all better now. You were worried, weren't you?"
Jihoon's eyes stung at the silence that followed. He didn't like her blank face. She'd been so full of life, scolding him for staying out late or for coming home with bad grades. This version of her, empty and emotionless, this wasn't his grandmother.
"I'll be back to see you tomorrow. Don't worry about me too much."
He gently laid her hand back on the covers, hitched his backpack higher, and left. He didn't go to the lobby but took the crosswalk that led to the far side of the hospital campus. He hopped on the bus that pulled up just as he walked out to the main road.
Shane watched the door close behind Jihoon. he'd barely pulled the curtains around him when he'd heard Jihoon coming in.
"I know what you'll say," she said as he sat in the wide visitor's chair beside grandmother. "I'm a coward. And you're right, but I'm not ready to see him. Not yet."
Shane picked up the hand that Jihoon had just put down. he thought she felt a spark as she rubbed her fingers over Halmeoni's soft skin. Apart of him wanted to believe Jihoon had left it there, a piece of him that he could hold on to. And the rest of him, the smart part of his head, knew it was foolish to read into a bit of static shock.
Then Shane closed his eyes and opened himself to his grandmother's soul.
Not to take it, but to check it. Because Shane had a good idea of why she wasn't waking up.
There it was, weak like a fading star, grandmother's waning soul. It was as Shane had feared: She'd given so much to Jihoon that she barely had any left. And she was trapped in this unconscious limbo. It seemed Shane had stolen life that night even though he'd failed to kill to take a soul.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"He'd never forgive me if he knew what I did." Shane brought grandma's hand to his cheek. "Do you think it's selfish that I'm hoping not to tell him? I don't want him to remember me as a monster. I don't expect you to forgive me, but please let me try to save you. For him and me."