𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 || 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐍 ||🥀

03

Jeonghan

The sun rose above the tree line, turning frosted tips of grass to glittering diamonds as I swung my SUV off the side of the road. I ignored the rat-a-tat of my heart, the sweaty palms, the tightness in my chest.

Most of Riperia would still be in their beds. In general, we were more a town of late-night drinkers than early risers. Which meant the odds of running into someone out here at this time were low.

I didn’t need the whole town talking about how Chief Yoon got himself shot and then lost his damn mind trying to find his damn memory.

Seungcheol and Minghao would get involved, sticking their civilian noses in where they didn’t belong. Hani would cast sympathetic glances my way while she and her parents smothered me with food and fresh laundry. Eventually I’d be pressured to take a leave of absence. And then what the hell would I have?

At least with the job, I had a reason to go through the motions. I had a reason to get out of bed—or off the couch—every morning.

And if I was getting off the couch and putting on the uniform every day, I might as well do something useful.

I put the vehicle in park and turned off the engine. Squeezing the keys in my fist, I opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder.

It was a crisp, bright morning. Not heavy with humidity and black as pitch like that night. That part at least I remembered.

Anxiety was a ball of dread lodged in my gut.

I took a steadying breath. Inhale for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight.

I was worried. Worried that I would never remember. Worried that I would. I didn’t know which would be worse.

Across the road was the endless tangle of weeds and overgrowth of a forgotten foreclosure.

I focused on the rough metal of my keys as they dug into my skin, the crunch of gravel under my boots. I walked slowly toward the car that wasn’t there. The car I couldn’t remember.

The band around my chest tightened painfully. My forward progress halted. Maybe my brain didn’t remember, but something in me did.

“Just keep breathing, stupid,” I reminded myself.

Four. Seven. Eight.

Four. Seven. Eight.

My feet finally did my bidding and moved forward again.

I’d approached the car, a dark four-door sedan, from behind. Not that I recalled doing it. I’d watched the dashcam footage of the incident about a thousand times, waiting for it to jog a memory. But each time it felt like I was watching someone else walk toward their own near-death experience.

Nine steps from my door to the sedan’s rear fender.

I’d touched my thumb to the taillight. After years of service, it had begun to feel like an innocuous ritual, until my print was what identified that car after it had been found.

Cold sweat ran freely down my back.

Why couldn’t I remember?

Would I ever?

Would I be oblivious if Soonyoung came back to finish the job?

Would I see him coming?

Would I care enough to stop him?

“Nobody likes a pathetic, mopey guy,” I muttered out loud.

On a shaky breath, I took three more steps, bringing me even with what would have been the driver’s door. There’d been blood here. The first time I came back, I hadn’t been able to force myself out of the car. I just sat behind the wheel staring at the rust-stained gravel.