Ferocious

by Paula Stokes

  “No, but I made sure Usu’s chairman knows we’re not afraid to give it to the newspapers. International ones if the local ones are afraid to run the story. Which means Kyung and Alec Kwon would be responsible for ruining Usu’s good name. How many companies do they own worldwide now? Fifty? A hundred?”

  “Sebastian, you’re brilliant,” I say, hugging him.

  “I’m just a guy who’s always prepared.” He pauses. “Should I even ask what the hell happened that night? Or just be glad we’re all okay?”

  “I thought you were going to betray us,” I admit. “That you were trying to use us to steal the tech for yourself. I saw you meet with Kyung earlier in the day as Erich Cross, so I told Jesse and we made a new plan.”

  “Ah.” Baz rubs at his chin. He’s clean-shaven again, more like the Sebastian I remember from St. Louis. “You couldn’t have just told me? I approached Kyung via an online site as a potential buyer for the tech. I wasn’t sure he’d take the bait but figured if he did, I could find out exactly where it was kept.”

  “You couldn’t have just told me you were meeting with Kyung?”

  “Touché,” Baz says. “I was afraid you’d interfere and end up getting hurt. So you guys broke in without me. That’s pretty badass.”

  “Jesse’s the badass,” I say, too tired to explain how Kyung and Alec had captured me. It doesn’t matter anymore, because they’re dead and I’m not. I’m alive, and Jun is alive too. I’m so incredibly grateful for both of those things, and for Jesse and Baz surviving too.

  But there’s also a heaviness in my gut that I can’t shake. I know Baz was right when he said wars always include collateral damage, but I’ll never forgive myself for the death of Jason Choi, the security guard. I didn’t kill him, but I involved him in our plan without his consent, and because of that he was tortured to death. I hate that his kindness in talking to me brought about the end of his life. I wish the world wasn’t like that, that it didn’t sometimes punish good people for no reason. Unfortunately, wishing the world was different won’t make it so. Life is horrible sometimes. I know that better than anyone.

  Baz glances around. “This place is even nicer than I remembered. And the weather is almost bearable.”

  “It is nice here,” Jesse agrees.

  “Better than the weather back in St. Louis, for sure.” Baz glances back and forth from Jesse to me. “So you ready to go home, or what?”

  Jesse grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “The sooner the better,” I agree.

  CHAPTER 53

  Back in St. Louis, Miso and I move into Jesse’s apartment temporarily. Jesse offers to sleep on the sofa so we can have his bed, but we’re both willing to share. Still, Jesse and I are sticking fast to our decision to take our relationship slow. Neither of us wants to blow the second chance we’ve been given.

  Gideon’s lawyer helps transfer ownership of the apartment building and Escape into my name. He also refers me to a lawyer who can help me apply for a visa, a real one, under the name Ha Neul Song. I still plan on being Winter to everyone in St. Louis, but my real name connects me forever to my sister. It’s time I took it back.

  Several different companies contact me about buying the ViSE technology. I end up selling the headsets and Gideon’s neural mapping notes to a medical school in Minnesota that wants to translate the work Gideon did with sensory neurons over to motor neurons, in an attempt to help paralyzed people regain partial mobility. I donate the money they pay me to a national charity that helps victims of human trafficking. I also send the charity my personal story, including as much information as I can remember about what happened to me in Los Angeles. I don’t even know if Kyung was still involved in trafficking before he left L.A., but maybe sharing my details can help free some other girls. I know there will always be evil people in this world. I know I can’t save everyone. But I’m hoping the money I donated can help some. It’s a start.

  I debate selling the neural editor too, but in the end I decide to destroy it. I’m hanging on to Gideon’s notes, just in case I ever regret that choice, but right now I don’t think modifying the way our brains interpret signals from our environments is a good idea.

  Reality is a good idea.

  I hold a special service for Gideon at Escape. We close the club to the public for the morning so that all of us who were close to him—Baz, Adebayo, Jesse, me, Natalie, and Isaiah—can honor his memory.

  After struggling to decide between a traditional Korean or a more American funeral, I actually opted to go with neither. I came up with the kind of service I think Gideon would have wanted. I set up framed photos of both him and my sister on one of the gaming tables and arranged chairs around it.

  The six of us take turns telling our favorite story about Gideon. Some of them make me laugh. Some of them make me cry. All of them make me glad I knew Gideon Seung, aka Cho Ki Hyun.

  Adebayo goes last. He tells the story of how when he lost his position at the university for taking bets, he was floundering for a few months. He spent his mornings in the Riverlights Casino, slowly (sometimes not so slowly) gambling away his savings. One night he had a few too many complimentary drinks and found himself kicked out into the cold. Gideon passed by him as he was walking home and asked if he needed medical assistance. When he heard Adebayo’s accent, he asked him where he was from. The two men struck up a conversation about what it was like to be so far away from their homelands.

  “He could have treated me as if I were a drunk or a homeless person,” Adebayo says. “For in that moment, I was perhaps both of those things. But instead of judging, or even pitying me, he bent down to give me a hand. And then he found a common thread between us, the fallen professor and the talented, young upstart.”

  Tears roll down my cheeks. For once I don’t wipe them away. I don’t try to stop them. I just focus on the image of the closest thing I’ve ever known to a father. I wish that my life up to this point had gone a little differently. I wish Gideon were still alive. But I’m glad I got to know him for as long as I did. And I’m glad both he and my sister found love—fierce, unrelenting love—in their too-short lives.

  After a few moments of silence, I stand again. “As you probably know, I’ve sold the ViSE technology, but Gideon left me this club and the building in his will. Adebayo and Sebastian are going to be handling daily operations, but there’s a job here for anyone who wants it. And you’re also welcome to continue living in your apartments rent-free. Gideon would want me to take care of his people.”

  “We’re your people too,” Natalie says. “We’re here for you.”

  “We’re all here, for each other,” Baz adds. “Let’s agree to that. No matter where we might end up, if one of us needs something, the rest will try to be there.”

  “Agreed,” Jesse says.

  “Deal.” Isaiah gives Baz a fist bump.

  “I’m in,” Natalie chirps.

  “As am I,” Adebayo says.

  As I look around the table, I realize the way I feel about each of them is slightly different, and the way I feel about my brother and aunt back in Seoul is different yet. But all of the feelings add up to one word—family.

  * * *

  As soon as I finish with business in St. Louis, Jesse and I head to the Echelon Wellness Center in Tucson, Arizona. We make one stop on the way. Los Angeles, of all places.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Jesse asks.

  We’re standing at the corner of a certain cemetery that, according to the Internet, is where all of the ashes of unclaimed bodies in L.A. are buried. As you can imagine, this particular area doesn’t get a lot of visitors, so there is no one around who will object if I spread Gideon’s ashes here.

  “He would want to be with her.” I pull a small gardening trowel out of my pocket.

  “What if she’s not here?”

  It’s a valid question. I’m not convinced the county of Los Angeles is particularly thorough when it comes to the burials of uncla
imed prostitutes. I remove the rose pendant from around my neck. With the trowel, I dig in the dirt until I’ve made a decent-sized hole. Then I drop the necklace into it. “Now she’s here.” With a quick glance around to be sure that we’re still alone, I dump Gideon’s ashes into the hole with the necklace. “I miss you both so much,” I say. “But if I can’t be with you, I’m glad you’ll get to be with each other. Forever.”

  “Forever,” Jesse echoes.

  We leave the cemetery and drive from L.A. to Tucson, where Jesse makes a huge fuss over leaving me at Echelon.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” he says.

  “Take care of Miso, obviously. And help out with the building.” Jesse has agreed to penthouse-sit for me while I’m gone. “It’s two months. Then you can come visit. I bet the time will fly by.”

  “Maybe for you,” Jesse grumbles. But then he gets serious. “I’m proud of you, Winter.”

  The old Winter would have shaken off the compliment and said there was nothing to be proud of, but that girl is only part of who I am these days. “Thanks.” I smile. “I’m proud of me too.”

  EPILOGUE

  Exactly two months from the day I checked myself into Echelon, Jesse comes to visit me. I take him for a walk around the grounds. We sit on a bench in front of the facility’s man-made lake, watching a lady across the water feed leftovers from her lunch to a small flock of mallard ducks.

  “Poor ducks.” My lips quirk into a smile. “No one wants that food.”

  “This place seems nice. Look, they even have swans.” Jesse points at a pair of white birds swimming side by side in the center of the lake.

  “I think I might pay a waterfowl surcharge for those,” I say. Echelon is not cheap, but luckily, thanks to the money Gideon left me, I can afford it. I definitely feel like a stronger person since I arrived here.

  “Totally worth it if they make you feel better.” Jesse blots a bit of sweat from his brow.

  A soft breeze rustles a patch of reeds at the water’s edge. I take in a deep breath of air and let it out. “I do feel better.”

  “Good.” Jesse pats me on the leg.

  “This is a good place for me. There are all kinds of people here, but the women in my building have all experienced dissociative symptoms. There are fourteen of us right now. We all meet for group sessions three times a week and then I have smaller sessions each day with three other women. It’s helping me a lot to hear their stories and share some of mine.”

  Jesse nods but he doesn’t speak. I’m overcome by the urge to reach out and touch his long, dark eyelashes, to brush a bead of sweat from the side of his nose. There are so many tiny things about him that are standing out as beautiful to me today.

  “I’ve also been working one-on-one with a therapist every day, a woman who is one of the foremost experts on dissociative identity disorder. Together we’ve uncovered four alter personas—Rose, Lily, a darker part who calls herself Black, and an older woman who is known only as the Calm One.” I pause to let this sink in.

  Jesse takes my hand. He massages my palm with his thumb. Above us, puffy clouds part and the sun shines directly down on our bench. I love how warm it is here. “Five of you. That’s intense,” he says finally.

  He reaches out to ruffle my hair, and I drink in the physical contact, the warmth of his touch. This facility is helping me, and I have no desire to leave early, but part of me thinks endlessly about the day I can return to St. Louis.

  As if he can read my mind, he says, “Everyone sends their love. Natalie says she misses you. Baz says to get well soon. Adebayo said something inspiring in that mellifluous accent of his, but I forgot exactly what it was.”

  “Mellifluous, eh?” I nudge Jesse in the ribs. “Did you start college without me?”

  “I might be reading a lot of books. But no; I’m excited to take some basic classes with you at the community college this fall. Of course, you’ll be in Calculus and I’ll be in something like Fun with Fractions, but maybe we can both sign up for Spanish and I can kick your ass at that.”

  “Porqué eres tan competitivo?” I say with a grin.

  Jesse’s jaw drops. “How the hell did you pull that out of thin air?”

  I blink innocently. “I get bored here sometimes. I found a How to Speak Spanish book in the library and remembered there was this one guy I kind of like who speaks it.”

  “Kind of like, huh? Well, I don’t know who that asshole is, but I bet he didn’t bring you an awesome present.” Jesse produces a small white box from the center pocket of his hoodie.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I say.

  “Yes, I should have.”

  “No, seriously. The nurses will probably take it away if you didn’t get it approved.”

  “I can take it back to the penthouse with me if you’re worried. Just open it already.” He fidgets on the bench, tapping his feet like he’s the one who just got a surprise.

  I untie the ribbon and open the box. Folding back the tissue paper, I discover a small glass snow globe. I hold it up to get a better look. It’s Namsan Tower and the cable car. I shake the globe gently and the snow swirls. I close my eyes and remember taking Jesse in the cable car up to the top of the mountain. I remember kissing him, him telling me he loves me in Korean. “It’s perfect,” I breathe. The sun refracts through the globe, casting the reflection of a rainbow on my arm.

  Jesse traces the colors on my skin. “I didn’t want you to forget our first date.”

  I glance furtively around and then quickly press my lips to his. We’re not supposed to engage in physical affection here. The doctors believe that romance complicates healing, and that when we’re here, we should focus solely on our own wellness and that of the other residents. “Thank you,” I say.

  “I have something else for you too.” Jesse removes a plain white envelope from his pocket. “It’s a letter, from Jun.”

  My eyes water. “There is no end to your kindness, is there?”

  “Baz helped me reach out to him. I can’t take all the credit.” Jesse pats me on the leg again.

  I rest the letter on my lap. I think I’ll wait until my next therapy session so I can read it with my doctor. I hope Jun and my aunt will want a relationship with me even after everything that’s happened. But if they don’t, that doesn’t mean I’ll be alone. The last few months have shown me that my family is bigger than I ever imagined, even if most of the members aren’t blood relatives.

  “Thank you,” I tell Jesse. “And thanks for taking care of the penthouse and of Miso too.”

  “Are you sure you want to move back into the penthouse after everything that’s happened?”

  I nod. “Everything in that place reminds me of Gideon. And thinking about Gideon makes me feel strong.” I pause. “And loved.”

  “That makes sense, but be warned. Now that the Moo-cat and I have engaged in extensive male bonding, you’re probably going to have trouble separating us when you come home. We’re talking weeks of guttural wailing and random fits of despondency.” He pauses. “And Moo might be sad too.”

  I laugh. I glance over at Jesse. “Maybe the two of you won’t have to separate.”

  He blinks rapidly. “What are you saying? You want to … live together?”

  Am I ready to live with Jesse? It feels like a big leap, but I have made so many of those in the past few months. And Jesse has been there every step of the way, supporting me. Loving me. “Well, the doctors here recommend that we stay with a loved one for at least the first six months after we leave. And you’re probably going to be around all the time anyway, right? Begging to copy my homework and such?”

  “True. And Moo and I do have kind of a regular Friday-night thing where we eat chicken wings and watch Animal Planet.” Jesse’s voice is playful but then he swallows hard and looks away. I can feel just how much this decision means to him.

  It means a lot to me too. Trusting him. Trusting myself.

  He pulls up the sleeves on
his hoodie. “I know there’s no humidity, but I forgot how hot the Southwest could get.”

  “It is quite warm today.” I wave a hand in front of my face.

  We turn back to the lake, where the swans have ventured up onto the shore. One of them shakes itself, splashing us a little bit.

  “You know the place you’re at is fancy when you say you’re warm and the swans come to gently mist you with water from their wings,” I say.

  “Nothing but the best for you,” Jesse says.

  I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. “Nothing but the best,” I agree.

  Acknowledgments

  Massive amounts of gratitude to the following people:

  My family and friends for their endless and unconditional support; Jennifer Laughran, for being tough and real and believing in my work; Kathleen Doherty, for giving this story a chance to live outside of my brain; Melissa Frain, for pushing me to make this book better and for being there for me, especially in Naperville; Amy Stapp, for epic multitasking and fielding lots of frantic author questions; Alexis Saarela, for being a promotional goddess and for the speediest email replies in the industry; Kristin Roth for careful and thorough copy edits that make me look a lot smarter than I am; and everyone else at Tor Teen, for the editorial, design, publicity, sales, and marketing support, and for a cover that is somehow even prettier than the first one. Seriously. You guys are all magic.

  Everyone I met while I was living and working in South Korea. Thank you for sharing your stories with me and for being part of an experience that changed my life forever. Thanks to all of my beta readers and experts. The following people were kind enough to provide feedback on elements of story, psychology, technology, medicine, and Korean culture: Marcy Beller Paul; Antony John; Kristi Helvig, Ph.D.; Christina Ahn Hickey, M.D.; Eli Madison; Elizabeth Min; Minjae Christine Kim; Yun-A Kwak; and María Pilar Albarrán Ruiz. Any mistakes are mine, not theirs.

  All of my amazing industry friends and colleagues: the girls at Manuscript Critique Services; the YA Valentines; the Apocalypsies; and all the bloggers, booksellers, librarians, and teachers who interact with me in person and on social media. I couldn’t do it without you.