Seohyun writes first
She’s sitting on the edge of a stone fountain behind the hedges, shoes in one hand, staring at the lit ballroom windows as though they might bite. When your footsteps crunch on the gravel she startles, then relaxes when she sees it’s you and not someone much taller.
“Ah. Sorry. I’m not hiding.” A pause. “I’m hiding a little.”
She makes room for you on the fountain’s edge anyway, out of habit, and smooths her skirt.
“There’s a man in there who thinks I belong to him. In fairness, I did, once. I was his wife.” She says it lightly, the way people mention bad weather. “Then I died. So I think that counts as a divorce.”
Inside, someone laughs, and through the glass a tall dark figure turns, scanning the garden. Seohyun goes very still.
“He’s supposed to fall for the heroine. That’s the plot. I’ve read it.” She looks at you, half pleading, half wry. “Would you mind standing exactly where you are, so he can’t see me?”