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“What on earth is this…?”
No matter how far she looked, the man was nowhere to be seen. There was no trace of him. What was going on? Had she been hallucinating or bewitched by a ghost?
A chill ran down Sa-hee’s spine as goosebumps rose on her neck. She quickly turned around, and at that moment—
“Looking for me?”
The man stood right behind her, freezing her in place before she could even scream.
“How did you…?”
“You’re asking how I’m here? Because I wanted to be. I can go wherever I want. And of course, I can send you off too.”
Goosebumps prickled her skin again. Sa-hee stared at him, her heart pounding wildly.
“Let’s get straight to the point.”
“...”
“I can let you meet your dead husband again.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not at all. It’s entirely possible. You just need to choose—do you want it or not? Which will it be?”
Ha-ha, Sa-hee forced an awkward laugh. Her hand trembled slightly as she brought it to her lips. Was she finally losing her mind? Was she hallucinating? Or was this man the one who was insane?
“You’re not crazy, and neither am I, so don’t worry. Everything is real. Feel it for yourself.”
With that, he suddenly slapped the umbrella out of her hand. The rain immediately drenched her entire body.
“What the...!”
“Feel it! Tell me if this feels fake or like madness.”
As he said, when she focused on her senses, everything felt vivid—the mourning clothes clinging to her soaked body, her hair sticking to her neck and face, the sharp sting of heavy raindrops pelting her skin, the smell of wet grass and earth surrounding her…
It wasn’t a lie. Everything was real and alive. But believing his words was another matter entirely.
Sa-hee picked up the umbrella, glared sharply at the man, and began walking away. Something told her getting involved with him would only bring trouble.
Surprisingly, the man didn’t try to stop her. He didn’t call out or chase after her. Without looking back, Sa-hee hurried toward the rear entrance of the funeral hall.
Folding her umbrella and stepping under the awning, she resembled a drowned rat. Thankfully, there were few people around; otherwise, whispers would have surely followed her again.
“Why don’t you dry off?”
Suddenly, a hand appeared beside her, offering a handkerchief. As Sa-hee turned her head in confusion while shaking out her clothes, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Why are you so surprised? Did you see a ghost?”
“How are you even here…?”
It was the same middle-aged man from earlier. He had definitely been behind her! How could he now be standing next to her without crossing her path? It was incomprehensible.
“Who are you?”
“You’re quick to ask.”
“Why are you following me?”
“Me? Following you?”
The man burst into laughter, then stepped closer to her.
“You called me.”
“What are you talking about? I never—”
“Do you really want to see your husband again?”
His sudden question left Sa-hee speechless. Water dripped steadily from her mourning attire and hair.
“Yes. I do.”
“How much?”
“With all my heart. Enough to do anything. That’s how badly I want it.”
The man stared intently at her earnestness. Then, with a wide grin, he spoke.
“Alright. I’ll grant your wish.”
“What?”
“I’ll let you meet your husband again.”
“Haha…”
“Why does it sound like a lie?”
Sa-hee laughed hollowly, her tear-streaked eyes red. The torrential rain continued, and nothing around them had changed. She couldn’t fathom how he intended to fulfill such a promise.
“What am I even doing…?”
Brushing her damp hair back, Sa-hee shook the water off her umbrella and turned away. There was no reason to listen to him any longer.
The man, hands still tucked into the pockets of his brown jacket, seemed about to say something more, but Sa-hee walked back inside the funeral hall. He didn’t follow her in, though he added one last remark:
“Show me your desperation! If you do, your wish will come true!”
---
Beep. The sound of the front door closing echoed loudly behind her.
On the third day of the funeral, Sa-hee had laid Ji-hyuk to rest and returned home. Was the house always this big? The living room felt desolate as she stared blankly at it. Slipping on her slippers, she slowly stepped inside.
Crossing the spacious house, Sa-hee headed to the bedroom. She hadn’t eaten or bathed properly in days, but it didn’t matter. All she wanted was to lie down and do nothing.
In the dimly lit bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed. Her black mourning clothes contrasted starkly against the white sheets.
“...”
Before long, tears welled up in Sa-hee’s eyes again. Ji-hyuk’s scent still lingered faintly on the bedding. With every deep breath, his presence seemed near, making her chest ache.
Having held back her tears in front of others, Sa-hee finally allowed herself to cry aloud. Curling up, she sobbed until she couldn’t breathe, crying endlessly.
These nights stretched on endlessly—crying until exhaustion overtook her, falling into a restless sleep. Skipping meals, refusing to leave the house, she grew increasingly haggard with each passing day.
“You’re going to end up collapsing again.”
“We can’t keep watching this. Snap out of it.”
“Yeah, get up already.”
Her friends were the only ones reaching out to her, calling daily and eventually visiting her home. But...
“Leave me alone. My head hurts.”
“Sa-hee.”
“I’ll contact you later. Please, just go.”
Sa-hee had no emotional capacity to accept anyone’s kindness. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she ignored their goodwill and retreated further into her dark cave of despair, crying and collapsing repeatedly.
“At least take your medicine properly, okay? Promise me.”
“Okay. I promise.”
After seeing her friends off, Sa-hee collapsed onto the couch, alone once more. On the living room table lay scattered pill packets—sleep aids and antidepressants prescribed because she couldn’t sleep.
“...”
She had no desire to take them. What was the point of living or staying sane when Ji-hyuk was gone? But she had promised her friends, so she had to take them.
Sa-hee grabbed some pills without looking closely and headed to the kitchen.
Stumbling into the cold, empty kitchen, she fetched a glass from the cabinet and poured water. Just as she tore open the pill packet—
RING.
The phone suddenly rang.
Checking her phone, she saw an unknown number. Switching it to vibrate mode, she resumed handling the pills. Shaking the packet, colorful tablets spilled out.
VIBRATE.
The phone buzzed again. Another unknown number. Could someone urgently need to reach her? Thinking this, Sa-hee picked up the call while holding the pills.
“Hello?”
- Yoon Sa-hee.
“Yes, that’s me. Who’s calling?”
- Can’t you recognize your own brother’s voice?
Sa-hee bit her lower lip at the mocking tone. She immediately recognized him—her older brother, Yoon Cheol-woo. Someone she especially didn’t want to deal with during this difficult time.
“What do you want?”
- So, your husband’s dead, huh?
“What?”
- I read about it in the news. A car accident, right?
Even a stray dog injured in the neighborhood would have received more sympathy than this. Cheol-woo’s amused tone made Sa-hee sick.
“So what? Why are you calling?”
- Don’t act high and mighty. Now that your husband’s dead, they’ll probably give you a nice chunk of inheritance. How much are they giving you?
This was why he’d called—money. Just money.
Though she had long known her brother cared nothing for her well-being, today his greed felt particularly suffocating.
“You bastard.”
- What?
“You’re no human being.”
- Are you out of your mind?
“The one losing it is you.”
- You little bitch!
“A person died. The man I lived with is gone. And yet, you’re asking about money?”
- Stop pretending to be noble. In the end, all that matters is money. No matter how much you cry or talk about love, it’s just a broken kite string. Wake up and grab what’s yours, idiot. Don’t lose everything because you’re too stupid to realize it.
“You’re insane. Never call me again.”
Sa-hee hung up and threw her phone across the room. Dropping the pills in her hand, she clutched her head in anguish.
Ji-hyuk’s absence was her greatest sorrow, but Cheol-woo’s relentless greed was becoming unbearable too. Just thinking about it made her nauseous.
“Please, leave me alone…”
Slumping to the floor, Sa-hee muttered weakly.
BZZT. The phone vibrated again. Trembling violently, she couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing the phone, she threw it into the trash bin and fled to the bathroom.
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