Page 6 of Scarbound

Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and froze. “Mr. Lee… Zenith Corp is holding a press conference.”

A feed appeared on the main screen. Chung-Hee watched in silence. The similarities were obvious.

“They moved faster than I expected,” he said.

No one answered.

He looked around the room. “Run the tests again. All of them. I want a full comparison with Zenith’s specifications by tomorrow morning.”

Min-Seo nodded.

“And nobody stays past nine.” Several people looked surprised. “Tired employees make mistakes,” Chung-Hee said. “I need accurate results, not exhausted people pretending they’re productive.”

The room immediately came back to life.

By evening, the office had emptied, and San gave Chung-Hee a final briefing before leaving for the day. “Tomorrow morning remains clear, as requested. The cemetery visit will be earlier this year; at eleven you have a meeting with the CISO of XLA Bank. I’ll bring the bouquet and offerings for your brother. Your mother will visit later.”

Chung-Hee’s expression tightened, just briefly. “You know what day it is,” he said.

San nodded. “It was unavoidable. Mr. Jacobs is leaving on a business trip tomorrow afternoon. He specifically made room in his schedule for you, boss. I can always reschedule after he returns, but that would be three weeks from now. And with the latest news about Zenith Corp…”

After a brief pause, Chung-Hee nodded. “Proceed as planned.”

San drove him home.

When they arrived at the modern building where his luxurious penthouse was located, Chung-Hee noticed more activity than usual. Boxes were stacked in the lobby and outside the private elevator.

He asked the concierge whether the second penthouse had been sold.

The concierge nodded. “A lovely lady in her early forties bought it. She has a son, but he’ll arrive later. He’s still in school.”

“Mr. Lee,” the concierge said hesitantly, “you seem a little down today. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?”

Chung-Hee pressed his lips together, despite trying to keep his composure. “Everything is perfect. Thank you.”

He stepped into the elevator.

Just as the doors were about to close, a hand stopped them. His gaze shifted toward it, then slowly traveled upward until it settled on the woman standing before him.

“Good evening! You must be Mr. Lee.” She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Kang Yujin, your new neighbor,” she added when he failed to respond.

He took her hand almost immediately. “Where are my manners?” A faint smile touched his lips. “I apologize. Welcome to the neighborhood, Ms. Kang. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me through the concierge.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence until the elevator reached the top floor.

At home, the silence collapsed in on him. His brother’s birthday, once a day of laughter and noise, had become unbearable. Empty bottles littered the coffee table. A half-filled glass of whiskey trembled in his hand as he stared out at the city lights. He hadn’t planned to drink this much. He never did.

A framed photograph caught his eye. Two boys, Chung-Hee and Haneul, grinning, arms slung around each other. His grip tightened around the glass and he drank.

Memories surged. Model airplanes scattered across the floor, arguments over nothing, pride, annoyance, love he never knew how to say aloud. And then the morgue and Haneul’s stillness.

“Another year,” he whispered. “Why did it have to be you?”

A notification from Haneul’s phone, which Chung-Hee had kept charged and switched on all these years, drew his attention. Who would send a message to this phone?

He rose slowly, his head hazy and his legs unsteady, then picked it up. For a moment, he thought he was imagining things. He didn’t read the message. He couldn’t. He never would.

But he recognized the name. Noeul.