A local thief and outcasted police detective, Park Seonghwa, become unlikely partners in crime to solve a string of murders.
START: 3.31.2020
FINISH: 2.20.2021
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record 30...SEPTEMBER 17
10:36 AM
IT LASTS FOR A WEEK. For a week, Levi manages to forget, carefully tucking every memory away behind a wall so that they can't hurt her.
Somehow, she did it. Managed to mute all of Seonghwa's beautiful colors, his blues and his reds and his purples, into nothing but a dull gray. Nothing.
Levi made it through long grocery store visits, pretending not to see the whispering strangers or the pointed fingers as she became a spectacle. A walking tourist attraction, the lone, pitiful survivor whose voice can be heard on television interviews across major news outlets.
Her trips to the therapist sometimes helped and sometimes she left feeling the same way she came in, but she still goes and she's proud of herself for it.
She even accepts the kindness of others–Minni's and Patrice's constant hovering, and an influx of anonymous donations from kind strangers that want to see her recover from the trauma. She tells herself that she is not a burden even though she feels like one.
She does all of these things in the hopes of one day being okay again. So why does she still keep a knife on her nightstand? Why does she feel so irreparable?
All it takes is the sink faucet.
Levi spirals. She is diving six feet underwater, the oxygen in her lungs snatched away. The sounds in her ears are muted but loud all the same. Relentless.
Carla's glassy eyes watch her, the shower tile tinted the color of rust. Blood rushing down the drain with the last vestiges of peace. Her jaw detached and hanging limp. Bruises on her feet.
That could have been Levi in Carla's place. That should have been–
"Levi!" Patrice's grip tightens on her shoulders, worried eyes taking in Levi's crumpled body on the floor. It takes a long moment for the images to fade away, Levi slowly holding her aunt's gaze. "Good. Take a deep breath for me, Vi. You're safe."
Doubt flares in her chest. She had thought that before and yet...
There is a sudden urge to check every lock in the trailer, every window and door. She doesn't even feel safe in her own body anymore.
The slightest sound or smell can be enough to send back into the memories, back to that cold, decrepit basement. It takes awhile to get it under control, to calm her rapidly beating heart and her runaway breathing.
She hates that she thinks it, but all she can notice once she returns to Earth is that she can't smell any alcohol on Patrice's breath for once.
She gently pries her aunt's hands off of her shoulders, managing a weak smile just to placate her. "I'm okay now."
