come true.
And she sounded terrified.
“Mary Lou, I’m outside the building,” I said.
“Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Please, Mom. Just leave.”
I looked toward the entrance.
“Kang Jun is here.”
Another silence.
Then she said quietly,
“Don’t let him know you came.”
My heart began pounding.
“What happened to you?”
“I can’t explain over the phone.”
“Then come downstairs.”
“I can’t.”
That sentence broke something inside me.
A mother knows when her child is lying.
And Mary Lou was lying.
Not because she wanted to deceive me.
Because she was
