Between Our Secrets (CosmoGirls Series I)

Prologue

Seoul, South Korea

“Hajiman nan geuleogo sipji anh-a!” [But I don't want to!]

A wave of icy coldness washed over me, a stark contrast to the burning heat in my head. The news, though not entirely unexpected, felt like a volatile explosion threatening to consume me. My family's plans were unacceptable, utterly repugnant.

“Appa…” Tears streamed down my face as I turned to my dad. “Uliga… ileohge haeya hanayo? Daleun bangbeob-eun eobsnayo?” [Dad, do we have to do this? Is there no other way?]

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Daleun bangbeob-eun eobs-seubnida.” [There is no other way.] My mom's voice cut through the silence. “Jasin-ui iig-eul wihae haeya habnida.” [You have to do it for your own good.]

“Jebal, Ria, nan tto daleun jamaeleul ilhgo sipji anh-a jebal uliga malhan daelo hae.” [Please, Ria, I don't want to lose another sister, so please, just do what we said.] My brother, added his voice to the chorus of persuasion, urging me to comply with their wishes.

“Ani geunde wae oppaneun yeogi nwadugo museun il-i il-eonaneunji cheolihadolog nwaduneun geonde, naneun wae an doebnikka?” [But why do you just leave my brother here to deal with everything? Why can't I?] I retorted, my frustration boiling over.

“Igeon daleun gyeong-uya, Ria, naega gamdanghal su iss-eo.” [This is a different case, Ria, I can handle myself.] Kuya replied.

“Geuleom naneun geuleohge hal su eobsnayo? Naleul gyesog agicheoleom kiumyeon na-ege galeuchin geos-i museun soyong-i issgessneunga?” [So I can't? What's the point of all the self-defense you taught me if you keep treating me like a kid?]

“Jebal, uli mal jom deul-eojuseyo. Geugeos-eun dangsin-ui baljeon-eul wihan geos-ibnida.” [Please, just listen to us. It's for your betterment.]

“G-geuge dangsin-i hangsang malhaneun geoyeyo…” [That's what you always say…] I bowed my head, collapsing onto my feet, unable to argue against their relentless pressure. Burying my face in my hands, I wept uncontrollably.

Manang Rosana, ever at my side, knelt beside me, enveloping me in a comforting hug. “Mag-listen na lang sa kuya mo, ‘nak. Hm… tahan na… para sa’yo ‘to, matutuwa rin ang ate mo kung gagawin mo ito.”

My sister…

The memory of my ate Elvira, lost four years ago to heartless butchers, sent a fresh wave of grief crashing over me. Those demons… I loathed them! My family's decision to send Manang and me to the Philippines stemmed from their fear of losing me as well.

Until recently, my life had been fulfilling.  But now, it was under siege. Threats arrived — a red stain with a sickening odor in a black box tied with a white ribbon containing letters, and disturbingly, broken children's toys. Each package bore a large red X, the mark of my tormentor.

These escalating threats had enraged my dad and kuya. Despite heightened security, someone kept breaching their defenses, leading them to suspect an inside informant.

I understood their desire to protect me, but I was capable, resourceful. Hindi na ako bata. Why bother teaching me self-defense if they wouldn't let me use it? And frankly, I was no longer afraid. I'm sensing something was amiss, something incongruous about these attacks.

The threats were oddly impersonal — letters, boxes, toys — no photograph, no name. Like... did the sender even know me?