The Evidence in the Bag

Bora gazed up at Ji-hoon, who sat before her, with eyes full of awe.

Ever since the way he'd treated her in the rain not long ago, her pride had been wounded — she'd never imagined the day would come when he would summon her first.

So it was true. After seeing her that day, he must not have been able to stop thinking about her.

Excitement bubbled up inside her. It figured — she'd been racking her brain over how to approach him anyway, what with her mother's advice to start with dating.

"Why did you call me in, sir?"

Bora blinked as slowly as she could manage, arranging her face into an expression of harmless innocence. She'd chosen the image deliberately, on the theory that he wouldn't care for a woman who came on too strong.

Up close, Sung Ji-hoon was even more handsome and radiant than she'd known him to be — as though he alone existed in some different dimension entirely.

He does live in a different dimension.

After all, he was the heir apparent to the mighty Haeseong Group. If Haeseong High School was where he'd been banished after causing a scandal, then his position at headquarters must have been beyond anything she could fathom.

"The reason I called you here."

At last, Ji-hoon's lips parted.

Tall and impeccably groomed as he was, and now with that deep, grave voice on top of it — truly, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, he was her ideal man.

"Yes, Chairman."

Bora practically glowed. After weeks of nothing but callow squids of boys, sitting across from a fully grown man this perfect made her ache with the desire to start dating him as soon as possible.

When she caught Ji-hoon's eyes narrowing slightly at her, she took it as a sign that he'd fallen for her, and redoubled her efforts at expression management.

"I hear you were sick on the day of the CSAT."

But his reason for summoning her strayed a little from her expectations.

Was he worried about her? For an instant Bora's eyes wavered, but she quickly recovered and let out an eye-smiling laugh as if nothing were amiss.

"That's right. My breathing suddenly stopped, and it scared me half to death. But how did you—"

"Your father mentioned it."

Tch. What?

So he'd turned down the marriage, but apparently he'd still been curious how she was doing.

Bora's expression turned sullen, but she nodded all the same.

"Yes. It was truly terrifying—"

"Why did your breathing suddenly stop?"

"Well, I had an upset stomach."

"An upset stomach?"

"No, I mean—"

How do I make this sound natural?

She really needed to fact-check whether an upset stomach could actually stop your breathing, but Bora opened her mouth again anyway.

"Honestly, I'm not sure what caused it. My chest got tight, and then suddenly I felt dizzy."

"Dizzy enough to call an ambulance?"

"They said I even blacked out. Though of course I don't remember any of it."

Ji-hoon said nothing. The silence stretched, his steady stare unreadable, and Bora broke it with a smile as bright as filtered sunlight.

"Anyway, I'm all better now! It was really scary and painful, but I went to the hospital and they fixed me right up."

"You went to the hospital?"

"Yes."

"And I hear you asked to be let out of the car."

"...I'm sorry?"

In an instant, the color drained from Bora's face.

"You asked to be let out because you weren't in pain. And when they wouldn't stop, you ran off in front of the hospital. That's what I heard."

"Th-that wasn't running away, it was—!"

Bora was flustered. Hadn't he called her in out of concern for her?

The moment that thought landed, embarrassment came crashing in on top of it, and she felt near tears. Great teardrops promptly began dangling from her big, round eyes.

"I really was sick, but I felt fine by the time we got to the hospital. Do you have any idea how much pain I was in, and you're saying that to me? That's so mean!"

"If you blacked out, you should have gotten tested. Or — maybe you were never sick in the first place?"

"I said I was!"

Bora rose from her seat in a huff, glaring at him for all the world like a girlfriend who'd been wronged. She didn't forget to add the wounded pout for good measure.

Knock, knock.

Then, without warning, a knock sounded at the door.

A moment later it opened, and Bora, glancing absent-mindedly at the face framed in the gap, sucked in a sharp breath.

"You— what are you—?"

It was her class vice president.

"I've brought Yeon Bora's bag, sir."

"She left it behind."

Only then did Bora snap to her senses as though struck over the head. She knew better than anyone what that bag contained.

"Hey! Vice president! Who said you could go through my bag and bring it here? You're dead, you hear me? Dead!"

Bora flared up like a brushfire, but the vice president simply walked in and set her bag down on the table in silence, gave a short bow, and withdrew.

Once he was gone, Ji-hoon tipped his chin toward the sofa.

"Yeon Bora. Sit down."

His voice was so stern, so ironclad, that Bora found herself sliding back into her seat before she knew what she was doing.

"Open it. With your own hands."

"Chairman!"

Bora's hands trembled violently as she cried out in desperation. The test voucher and ID she'd slipped out of I-eum's bag yesterday were still inside it. She'd hidden them there in her own fashion, fearing that if she left them at home, I-eum might find them.

Today she'd planned to throw them away at school. It had to be done when no one was watching, so she'd waited for lunch hour, when the classroom would empty out — which was exactly why it had never once occurred to her that she'd be caught this fast.

If I'd known this would happen, I should've just flushed them down the toilet this morning.

Cursing herself for failing to destroy the evidence sooner, Bora wept big, rolling tears.

"Open it."

"Chairman, please!"

Bora stamped both feet on the floor and burst into loud sobs.

It had always worked before — every time she cried like this, someone would step in and smooth things over for her. Her mother had. Her stepfather had. Her boyfriend and her friends, too.

And so Bora was doing the very best she could with the only skill she had. Unfortunately, it did not work on Ji-hoon.

"Fine. Then I'll open it."

Ziiip.

The moment the zipper parted, Bora let out a scream that could have fainted a lesser person.

Ji-hoon upended the bag, and its contents tumbled out onto the table — a few books and notebooks, a keyring with a little doll attached, and a rectangular pouch printed with a cartoon character.

At a glance it looked like any ordinary schoolgirl's belongings, but one item caught Ji-hoon's eye.

"You can't open that! There are pads in there!"

Ji-hoon opened the pouch without a moment's hesitation. He drew out the cosmetics and the hygiene products inside, and there it was.

"What's this?"

Held between his fingers was a case the size of a card wallet. Even unopened, its translucent material made the contents plainly visible.

I-eum's ID card — and her test voucher.

Bora, apparently deciding it was all over, covered her face with both hands and wailed. Ranting about calling her mother, threatening to fetch a lawyer — her mind had clearly come completely unhinged.

Letting out a long, heavy sigh, Ji-hoon leaned back against the sofa. The shock had hit him too.

The more he watched Bora's reaction, the more the crime he'd only half-dared to suspect hardened into fact, and the back of his head throbbed. He hadn't held out much hope that the evidence would be sitting right there in her bag — perhaps he should simply count himself lucky his gamble had paid off.

Thinking of I-eum, despairing as though her whole world had collapsed, made his blood boil — but he reminded himself that this was no place to fly off the handle, and calmly picked up the phone.

"Get the principal here, along with the staff in charge of the school violence committee and Yeon Bora's guardian. Immediately. And—"

But there, Ji-hoon had to stop.

A faint tremor was rising through the floor beneath his feet. It grew steadily clearer, until at last the sound of an enormous crowd of footsteps reached his ears.

"We'll leave it there for now."

He barely got the receiver down before the door burst open with enough force to split its hinges.

BANG!

On the other side of it stood I-eum, chest heaving.

And hot on her heels, an uncountable throng of students appeared, craning their necks to peer into the chairman's office.

Even Bora, mid-sob, stopped crying and stared bug-eyed at the doorway.

"I-eum."

Ji-hoon called her name, but I-eum seemed to have already finished assessing the situation. The disbelief on her face gave way to resignation, then settled into calm resolve as she stepped inside.

Click.

She locked the door behind her, and from the corridor came the roar of students erupting into excited chatter.

Unshaken, I-eum advanced on the two of them — or rather, on Yeon Bora, who sat there drenched in tears, playing the victim.

And in the blink of an eye—

CRACK!

Bora's head snapped around without mercy.