Ivory (Sequel to Porcelain)

Chapter 9: Goodbye Letter

The rest of the day went by in a blur.

On the way back to school from Donghyun's house, Kwangmin and I didn't talk much about what we'd found-or most importantly, what we didn't find-and we certainly didn't talk about Youngmin. I think it was more so out of confusion about everything, rather than outright avoidance of the subject. I just think our heads wouldn't quit spinning long enough for us to get any words out.

As for me, I wasn't sure which I should be more alarmed by-either the fact that we'd seen almost everything in the basement and found nothing even remotely odd or secretive or worthy of being guarded so fervently by my father, or the ever-thickening mystery of Youngmin.

I, as my suspicious personality usually caused me to do, conjured up all sorts of possible theories in my head during the thirty-minute bus ride back to Seoul. First it was the notion that we might've accidentally skipped over an unnoticeable door, one that blended in so well it could've been part of the wall, one that housed all the secrets. Then, that took me down the road of imagining the possibility of there being a secret passageway disguised as a bookcase or section of the floor, like the ones in movies. It wasn't that farfetched, to be honest. Donghyun's house was pretty old. But the last idea I thought of was slightly more realistic. Perhaps everything Donghyun wanted to hide was kept in Youngmin's room. Maybe it was far more than the bland and bare hotel-room-esque chambers beside it. Maybe it...

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Saying the word in my head over and over didn't actually tell me anything. If anything, it just made me frustrated.

I went through the rest of my classes in a daze. In the grand scheme of things, it seemed kind of silly to be in school anyway. How could I possibly concentrate on algebra and English vocabulary when my life was a genuine horror film? When you get caught up in a world with secret basements and living dolls and creepy keychains and friends who talk to people you can't see, it kinda changes your perspective on things. And the fact that Kwangmin barely spoke to me at all let me know I wasn't the only one.

It wasn't until after school that the haziness in my brain sharpened up a little. The reason was mainly because I had no choice but to snap out of my thoughts and come back to the real world-my sister had been called to the principal's office and I had to go sort everything out.

When I got to his office, the first thing I saw was Mr. Baek sitting behind his desk, his face grim, with his hands clasped firmly on the surface of the desk. Then, in the two chairs opposite the desk, I saw a thin woman with shoulder-length black hair whom I recognized as the school's art teacher, sitting, with an embarrassed look on her face, next to my sister who was sobbing loudly.

"Oh good, you're here," Mr. Baek said, looking up and sighing with relief when I entered the room.

Sohyun's head whirled around and she cried, "Eunji! It wasn't my fault, they can't do this-"

"Please calm down, Sohyun," the art teacher said, awkwardly patting my sister on the back. "Your sister can't know what happened unless you calmly-"

"What'd you do to her?" I blurted out, realizing half a second later that I should've kept my mouth shut. But I couldn't help it-Sohyun looked really upset, and she'd said something about "they" doing something. For a brief moment, my protective sister instincts took over and I was prepared to unleash my wrath on whoever had made her cry like this. But then I remembered where I was and who I had just spoken informally to... My face turned bright red. Forcing a nervous smile on my face, I quickly added, "I mean...what seems to be the problem? Nothing bad, right?"

Mr. Baek didn't speak. He just sat there, staring with disgust at the spot on his desk where Sohyun's tears had made a tiny puddle.

I looked at the art teacher, waiting for her to explain.