“What did you just say?!”
Hwang Jo-yoon’s voice rose, thick with offense. From the window, Gyu-baek chuckled. “Ho-ho,” he said, as if watching a fascinating spectacle. “He’s even foaming at the mouth.”
The child was right. But the observation only served to stoke Hwang Jo-yoon’s bizarre rage, a temper no one could ever predict. Ji-woo slid the window shut, settled Gyu-baek on the sofa, and then stepped out the front door to face the man waiting for her.
“If I catch you snooping around my home again,” Ji-woo said, her voice cold as ice, “I’m calling the police.”
“Is he your child?”
“That is none of your business.”
Gyu-baek was a brilliant child; people were always amazed to learn he worked at the hospital while still in elementary school. But Hwang Jo-yoon's question wasn’t about the boy’s accomplishments; it was an intrusion into her private life.
“Ji-woo!” he cried out, his voice cracking. “Is… is he the reason you just vanished like that?”
“Vanished? I was fired. Because of you.”
“No way… I took care of you! I looked out for you! But how… how could you, of all people, have a child!”
Ji-woo sighed. He wasn’t listening at all. A muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes wild with rage as he pressed the heels of his hands against his face.
“I’m calling the police.” She pulled out her phone and started dialing.
“Ji-woo, I can’t wrap my head around you being married. Were you forced into it? Some kind of debt, or a situation you couldn’t escape? If that’s it, I can understand. I can help you.”
God, I hate those eyes, she thought. Vile. Filthy. The man was an idiot, in love with no one and nothing more than himself. He always had to play the savior, especially when no one asked him to be. Ji-woo certainly hadn’t. She just wanted him to vanish.
He was a fool and a stalker, but one who knew how to wield his influence. It was a frustrating, miserable thing to be the target of someone so petty.
“Hello, police station?” Ji-woo said, her glare fixed on Hwang Jo-yoon. “A stalker has broken into my house.”
“Ji-woo, I’m just worried about you!” Hwang Jo-yoon insisted, his gestures becoming wild.
“He appears to be drunk,” she said calmly into the phone. “He’s causing a scene and talking nonsense.”
“Ji-woo!” His face flushed a deep red, his expression twisting as if she’d just stabbed him in the back. “Is caring about you a crime now?!”
Ji-woo pulled the receiver away from her ear for a moment. “No, but stalking is. So is sneaking up to people’s windows. You get your kicks from killing insects!”
Her eyes are different, Hwang Jo-yoon thought. The Han Ji-woo he remembered was a lonely, pliable girl, easy to persuade, easy to control. But Director Han, the woman standing before him now, radiated a completely different energy.
Then again, witnessing a murder and living with the killer for two years would change anyone. Ji-woo had learned to live on a knife’s edge, perpetually alert. Every day was a risk she had to navigate carefully. A man like this, a pathetic bully from her past, barely registered as a threat anymore. She had been forged into something bolder.
“It’s pathetic. You torture ants, you kill helpless little insects, and you act like you’re some kind of god. My eight-year-old son is more of a man than you are.”
Hwang Jo-yoon’s lips trembled with fury. “Are… are you even sure who your husband is? The last time we met, he seemed to have a temper problem. You can’t tell me you aren’t struggling with a man like that?” He leaned forward, his voice pushy. “Is it too much to ask? We can go to the district office right now. You show me the paperwork, and this will all be over.”
“Enough!” Ji-woo yelled. “I don’t have to prove a single thing to you. Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Your attitude is driving me crazy, you know that?” he bellowed, spittle flying from his lips. “I’m not the psycho here! You’re the bitch who’s driving me to this!”
Ji-woo realized words were useless. There was no point arguing with this worthless creature anymore. A part of her just wanted to smash her fist into his jaw and be done with it. Her hand shot up, as if to scoop a handful of dirt from a nearby cart. Hwang Jo-yoon flinched, stumbling back a step.
“Stay out of my life. It has nothing to do with you. There is absolutely nothing about you that I find appealing. I have no idea where you get this confidence from, you worthless piece of shit.”
It had been years since Hwang Jo-yoon had gotten her fired from Hospital D. He’d claimed it was love, but he was incapable of loving anyone but himself. He was a toxic, obsessive stalker who only wanted to possess her. He’d probably tried his act on other women, and when they refused to tolerate him, he’d circled back to Ji-woo, remembering her as the easier target.
Her voice dropped, taking on a conspiratorial chill. “I have a very scary husband.”
“Ji-woo…” he pleaded.
“He’s not afraid of anyone. And yes, he has trouble controlling his temper sometimes. Never with me, of course. But he bites. If I were you,” she said, her voice low and firm, “I’d run.”
For a fleeting moment, she remembered the night Seo Tae-joon had buried his face in her neck. A sudden heat rose in her cheeks, and she cleared her throat with a small cough. Her eyes flicked toward the yard, where several shovels leaned against the wall.
“Besides,” she added, “he’s good at burying things. You’d better make yourself scarce. He’s already angry with you.”
Ji-woo turned and went back inside. But Hwang Jo-yoon was not a man who listened to warnings. He stared at her retreating form, seeing the twenty-two-year-old girl he once knew. I must lead this stray lamb back to the right path, he thought.
A cold spring breeze blew through the yard. Inside, Ji-woo closed the curtain. Hwang Jo-yoon was still standing there, his cold gaze fixed on her window. His stare was like the black, unblinking lens of a camera, and it was filled with rage. Ji-woo’s face hardened. She was so sick of those creepy eyes.
From that day forward, Hwang Jo-yoon’s stalking began again.