The protector

This is the week when we forget

Pyongyang, 2028, February 10

In-ah hastily grasped the bag and her coat before running to the door. She had time, but she was late too. The scarf barbarically wrapped around her neck, one arm, and then the other, the woman wore the long coat in the lift, looking at the mirror to check if every button was in the right slot. As soon as the doors opened, she started to run again, ignoring Carlos who was pacing - quick steps and heavy shoes - at her side. Removing the lock, she threw the chain in the bike basket, rolling it around the handle of her bag. The one of the muggers at the stoplight was a growth economy.

"Ready?"

"Yes boss!" Carlos was as enthusiast as if the party was his. She had recently proposed to Mr. Ra to swap their assistants, keeping the guy under her protection. Such a great idea, she had made everyone happy. Of course, Carlos' efficiency wasn't even close to her former assistant's, but being under her wing would have trained him better and faster. Besides, exploiting him as a friend out of office hours was an interesting bonus, especially when she needed to secretly organize a party for someone who lived in their same building – and, in her case, in her same house -, which requested for everything to be organized during lunchtime.

And yes, there also was the fact that her former assistant was a local, and she was having enough of being spied. If as a stranger – although an important one – she had to lower her head, as the daughter in law to be of the GPB Director she could eventually allow herself some freedom.

Saddling up, they run to Mimmi's office. In-ah had always hated the NK lunchtimes – two hours, damn! – but they eventually were proving useful because now, although the last days had been spent at the hospital with Yoon-hee, she was still having time enough for the last preparations.

A smile sprang on her face, thinking back to the face of Jeong Hyeok's mom when, apologizing because she wouldn't have been able to come on the day after, and explaining to her why, the woman had asked her if she really – emphasizing the 'really' with all the power of her disconcerted bewilderment –was organizing a party for her son's birthday.

"In-ah dear, are you really organizing a party for Jeong Hyeok? A party?"

"I know Madame, it's hard to believe" they had smiled together, "but don't worry: he hasn't suddenly changed his personality, I had to corrupt him to obtain his permission, and he thinks it's just a dinner. Better: he probably thinks that the dinner has been canceled now."

"How? How did you corrupt him?"

In-ah had made a meaningful move with her chin. "The bulgogi."

That conversation had ended with Yoon-he grabbing her hand and not freeing it until In-ah had accepted the help of her maids. "You order, they'll do the work, so you won't get tired, and I'm not going to accept a no this time. More hands to help... and you've lost time being here... and..."

It was some time now, and precisely since the trial, that the woman seemed constantly worrying for In-ah to get tired 'with the work, the dojang and the house' – she always said it all together: 'the work, the dojang, and the house' and her tone was the same In-ah would have used with someone who worked in a coal mine -. In-ah thought, should read: Mimmi had suggested her, that it was her way to thank her for taking care of Jeong Hyeok. 

What the Spanish prudently omitted, was her role in eliciting that gratefulness.

Carlos struggled with the brakes - he always swore he knew how to ride a bike but he didn't - banging in front of the walkway. Klaus, that day, already was with Sang-bum.