It's Way Too Late To Stay Locked Up Inside Ourselves

9 pm

Jeong-hyeok closed his office door behind him and collapsed into his chair. He squinted trying to remember the last time he had sat here. Then it hit him. Before going to see her. That was only a week ago. How could so much have changed?

Since returning to headquarters, the last few hours had been a whirlwind of protocols and paperwork. Jeong-hyeok had painstakingly walked his colleagues through his role in protecting Yoon Se-ri.

Yes, he had been there despite not being a part of the official detail assigned to the building.

Yes, he had intervened only after Agent Park was shot.

Yes, he had followed all directions from the agent in charge once he intervened.

Yes, he had been in the elevator with her for thirty seven minutes while the agents were engaged in the fatal standoff with Cho Cheol-gang.

Some of the most harrowing moments of his life had been reduced to a maddeningly neutral series of questions about chain of command. It had taken all of Jeong-hyeok's self control to speak in an even tone. Nothing in his report mentioned the abject terror of almost losing Se-ri or the searing pain of leaving her behind.

Jeong-hyeok looked down at his brother's watch and traced the face around and around with his thumb. Wasn't he supposed to feel relieved now that his brother's murderer was dead? He felt only emptiness. There was no longer anything to pursue that tied Mu-hyeok's death to this world. Yet his brother's watch ticked on as Jeong-hyeok stared blankly at the wall.

Deputy Director Kim had already addressed the public. Jeong-hyeok stayed away so as to avoid further contributing to the media circus. After, Agent Soo told him that the press was in a frenzy at the official briefing. The world now knew that one of the nation's most wanted criminals was killed during an attempted kidnapping of the Yoon heiress. Park Kwang-beom texted to tell him not to come home; their brownstone was surrounded by paparazzi. In a matter of hours he had gone from the nameless agent in the back of the room to the center of a sensationalized national drama.

His phone was face down on the table. Jeong-hyeok refused to look at the news. Nor could he bring himself to call Se-ri before he had a chance to speak to his family. He had come so close to losing it in front of his entire division when they had left the garage. Jeong-hyeok knew that he had to get through whatever else the agency and his family would demand of him tonight before he let himself talk to her again.

The door creaked open. It was his mother. Kim Yun-hui's eyes were red from crying. She seemed older to him -- as if the reopening of this wound had sapped even more strength since the last time he had seen her. She pulled a chair around and sat down next to her son. Then Kim Yun-hui closed her hand over his.

"I could have lost you too, Jeong-hyeok."

He closed his eyes and felt a surge of guilt. Jeong-hyeok had not given a moment's thought to her when he had rushed to Queens Group; his single minded focus on keeping Se-ri safe had pushed all concern for his own life out of his mind.

"I am sorry I put you through that today. But I am here, Mother. And Cho is gone."

Kim Yun-hui looked at him, eyes welling with tears.

"I always imagined this day." She sighed deeply. "But it doesn't feel any different, Jeong-hyeok." Her voice broke and he put his arm around her.

Because Mu-hyeok is still gone. They sat there in silence together as the second hand on the watch swept around and around. There was still a hum of activity outside. Agents rushed back and forth; secretaries joked in the hallway. Time marched on.