"Appa..."
Anna shifted against my shoulder.
The memory vanished.
The city came rushing back into focus.
The traffic.
The noise.
The afternoon sunlight.
The weight of my daughter resting safely in my arms.
I looked down and saw her blinking sleepily at me.
Her hair was a mess from her nap, sticking out in every direction.
For some reason, it made me smile.
"I'm here," I said softly.
She rubbed her eyes.
"Are we home yet?"
"Not yet."
She sighed dramatically.
"Long trip."
I laughed.
"You're five years old. What do you know about long trips?"
She immediately pointed at herself.
"I'm an expert."
"Of course you are."
Satisfied with that answer, she rested her head against my shoulder again.
Within seconds, she was asleep.
I held her a little tighter.
For a moment, everything felt peaceful.
Maybe I had worried for nothing.
Maybe seven years really was enough time.
Enough time for old wounds to heal.
Enough time for bad memories to stay buried.
Enough time for this city to forget me.
And enough time for me to forget it.
That was what I had been telling myself ever since I decided to come back.
The city was huge.
The chances of running into anyone from my past were almost impossible.
I wasn't the same scared boy anymore.
I had Anna.
I had a career.
I had built a life far away from this place.
The past couldn't hurt me anymore.
At least, that's what I thought.
Then a black car slowed to a stop at the curb directly in front of me.
The moment I saw it, something cold settled in my chest.
A feeling I hadn't experienced in years.
Fear.
Not ordinary fear.
The kind your body remembers even when your mind wants to forget.
The kind that appears before you even know why.
The driver's door opened.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair.
For a second, I couldn't breathe.
No.
No, no, no.
Not him.
Anyone but him.
Seven years had changed both of us.
We were older now.
But some faces become burned into your memory forever.
And I would have recognized his anywhere.
Slowly, his eyes found mine.
The world around me seemed to stop.
The traffic noise faded.
The people disappeared.
There was only him.
And me.
Junhoo.
The person I had spent seven years trying to forget.
The person connected to every nightmare I still refused to talk about.
His expression changed the moment he recognized me.
Shock flashed across his face.
Then disbelief.
Then something darker.
Something that made my stomach twist.
Anna stirred slightly in my arms.
Instinctively, I tightened my hold on her.
Protective.
Possessive.
Terrified.
Junhoo's gaze dropped to the child sleeping against my shoulder.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he looked back at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Neither of us moved.
Seven years of silence stretched between us.
Finally, he took a step forward.
My body reacted before my brain did.
I stepped back.
His expression hardened.
"You're alive."
His voice was exactly the same.
That voice alone was enough to drag me back into memories I had spent years trying to bury.
I swallowed.
My throat felt dry.
"So are you."
For a long moment, neither of us said anything.
Then his gaze shifted to Anna again.
"Who is she?"
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
A warning bell rang inside my head.
Danger.
The same instinct that had once helped me survive screamed at me to leave.
Now.
Immediately.
Before this conversation went any further.
Before he learned anything.
Before he got close.
Anna stirred and wrapped her little arms around my neck.
Completely unaware of the storm unfolding around her.
Junhoo stared at her.
Then at me.
And suddenly, I realized something.
He didn't know.
After all these years...
He still didn't know.
A chill ran down my spine.
Because if Junhoo ever found out the truth...
Everything I had spent seven years protecting could come crashing down.
His eyes locked onto mine.
And for the first time since he stepped out of that car, he smiled.
It wasn't a friendly smile.
It wasn't warm.
It was the smile of someone who had just found something he thought he'd lost forever.
And somehow, that frightened me more than anything else.
Seven years ago, Junhoo destroyed my life.
Standing there on that sidewalk, staring into his eyes again, I realized something terrifying.
The past hadn't come back to visit.
It had come back to claim me.