Chapter 13.2

Chapter 13.2

The barking of the dog from the house in front finally quieted, filling the small room with an awkward silence. The sound of the refrigerator motor, which she had never noticed before, was now almost comforting.

The sound of saliva involuntarily collecting in her mouth echoed loudly as she swallowed. Miran fidgeted awkwardly with her skirt, holding her breath until she jolted at the sound of a thud.

It was the sound of the man dropping his duffle bag by the door. He took off his shoes next to hers and walked into the room, placing the black plastic bag on the table.

When he stood in the middle of the room, it felt as if the size of the rooftop room had shrunk to a quarter of its original size.

She saw him glance at the bathroom door. Miran quickly walked over and opened it.

“Uh… So, this is the toilet and shower.”

The man looked over her shoulder with a sharp gaze and nodded. It didn’t seem like he intended to use it right now. Suddenly, Miran realized she had let a man whose name she didn’t even know into her room.

“Excuse me? What is your name?”

The unexpected question seemed to make him hesitate for a moment before he answered briefly.

[André.]

“André…”

Miran awkwardly tried out his name in her mouth.

“Nice to meet you, André. My name is—”

André cut off her textbook-like English.

“Miran.”

She stared at him with large, surprised eyes and then bit her lip. The man, who had seemed completely uninterested in her, had remembered her name. Her heart began to race again.

“You remember?”

Miran felt as awkward and ticklish as she had on her first theater stage, squirming uncomfortably. She stole a glance at André. He seemed like a gentleman. He had helped her off the bus and carried the bottle of liquor for her.

She couldn’t tell if he was a good person, but he certainly wasn’t a bad one. Feeling a bit more at ease, she gestured to him.

“Sit down comfortably over there. Sit down.”

When she pointed to the chair opposite the table, André pulled it out and sat down. Miran took out two bottles of soju from the black plastic bag and asked him,

“Drink?”

“Yes.”

Soju wasn’t actually André’s drink of choice, but today, it didn’t matter.

He found it absurd to be sitting in this shabby room with a woman he didn’t know. Doing something he wasn’t used to had his nerves on edge. But since he had confirmed there were no accomplices in this “perfect crime,” a little alcohol to loosen up didn’t seem like it would hurt.

Miran mimed eating with a spoon and asked again,

“Side dish. Eat?”

“No, thank you.”

When André answered firmly, Miran rummaged through the cupboard in the makeshift kitchen, mumbling.

“Has he been in the military for long? He’s so disciplined, there’s no room to break through. Should I try to get him drunk and win him over…?”

When she returned to the table with glasses, André’s demeanor had subtly changed. He seemed a bit more at ease, but suddenly, there was a sense of distance again as if he had put up a wall. Miran had no idea what the problem was.

Without moving, André’s eyes followed her every move. Conscious of his gaze, Miran picked up the sky-blue soju bottle with a toad label and opened the cap with a spoon. At that moment, one of André’s eyebrows arched into a seagull shape.

In the silence, the clear liquid gurgled as it filled the small soju glass. As soon as Miran put down the bottle, André spoke.

[What do you want from me?]

Miran blinked and stared at André.

“…What are you saying?”

André sighed patiently. If her plan involved getting a few drinks into a former soldier twice her size and causing him physical harm, he had to question her intelligence.

It was clear that she already knew she had no money, having lost her wallet. The duffle bag contained nothing of value to her—just some documents and clothes. There was nothing worthwhile inside.

Miran was too amateurish to be called a terrorist or spy from an enemy country, trying to make a former US military officer a hostage for some demand.

Who on earth is this woman? Why did she bring him here?