The first thing Mary Lou asked after Choi was taken away was whether she could keep Kang Jun’s letter.
The investigator hesitated.
It was evidence.
Everything had become evidence.
Her house.
Her bank records.
The photographs on Ji-hoon’s wall.
The money upstairs.
Even a private letter from a dead husband telling his wife she owed him nothing had acquired an evidence number.
Mary Lou stared at the plastic sleeve containing it.
“I’ve spent nine years waiting for him to explain himself.”
The investigator spoke quietly to Soo-jin.
She translated.
“They need the original temporarily. You’ll receive a certified copy today.”
Mary Lou nodded.
It was reasonable.
She still hated it.
We left the reservoir after Ji-hoon was taken to the hospital. The bullet had passed through the upper part of his shoulder without striking bone or a major artery. That was the good news.
The bad news was everything else.
Choi had surrendered once the officers secured the tunnel, but surrender did not make him cooperative.
Not immediately.
He asked for an attorney.
Then he asked who had custody of the archive.
Then he asked whether Lee Sang-ho had been arrested.
Nobody answered him.
His interest in Lee worried Soo-jin.
“He knows something,” she said during the drive back toward Seoul.
Mary Lou rested her head against the window.
“He always knows something.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am tired.”
I touched her knee.
“Sleep.”
She looked at me.
“In a car full of investigators?”
“You slept through your father replacing our kitchen floor.”
“I was sixteen.”
“You were impossible to wake.”
A faint smile appeared.
It lasted only seconds.
Then she closed her eyes.
Twenty minutes later, she was asleep.
I watched the road slide past.
For the first time since I arrived in Korea, nobody appeared to be chasing us.
It should have felt peaceful.
Instead, I kept checking the mirrors.
Fear develops habits.
Mary Lou had lived with those habits for nine years.
I had acquired them in less than a week.
At the investigative office, we were placed in a different section from Choi.
Soo-jin disappeared into meetings.
Mary Lou was questioned again.
So was I.
The questions were more detailed now.
Who had possessed each drive?
Who copied what?
When did Mary Lou first understand the transfers were connected to criminal activity?
Why had she continued processing documents for Choi?
Had she ever received personal payment?
Had she knowingly created false invoices?
Mary Lou answered everything.
Sometimes she paused.
Sometimes she asked for clarification.
She never softened what she had done.
“Yes, I entered the numbers.”
“Yes, I knew some records were false.”
“Yes, I understood the money was being concealed.”
Then the answer that mattered:
“No, I did not believe I could refuse without putting my mother in danger.”
The investigator asked whether Choi had ever explicitly threatened me.
Mary Lou described photographs.
Addresses.
Copies of my utility bills.
My church schedule.
A photograph of me standing at my husband’s grave.
I felt my stomach turn.
I had never known about that one.
“When?” I asked.
Mary Lou looked at me.
“Six years ago.”
I remembered the day.
Cold rain.
My husband’s birthday.
I had stood beneath an umbrella and complained to a dead man about the price of replacing a water heater.
Someone had photographed me from across the cemetery.
Mary Lou saw my expression.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for what other people did.”
The investigator waited.
Mary Lou continued.
Choi would place photographs on her desk without comment.
Sometimes he would ask whether I still attended the same church.
Sometimes he would mention weather in my town.
Once, after Mary Lou delayed signing a transaction document, Choi told her he hoped her mother drove carefully in winter.
No direct threat.
None needed.
The investigator wrote everything.
Afterward, Mary Lou sat in the hallway.
“I should have recorded him.”
“You survived him.”
“I could have done more.”
“You did enough.”
She looked at me.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re sitting here.”
That did not satisfy her.
It did not entirely satisfy me either.
But survival deserved more respect than guilt usually gave it.
Soo-jin returned after sunset.
Her face told us something had changed.
“What?” Mary Lou asked.
“They searched Choi.”
“I assumed they would.”
“They found a storage key.”
Mary Lou straightened.
“Another archive?”
“Possibly.”
The key belonged to a private vault facility in Seoul.
Not a bank.
A business offering secure document storage to corporate clients.
Investigators obtained an emergency warrant.
Inside Choi’s box they found three passports, cash in four currencies, two encrypted drives, and a handwritten notebook.
Soo-jin placed photographs of the notebook on the table.
Mary Lou leaned closer.
Rows of names.
Amounts.
Dates.
Initials.
Some entries went back fifteen years.
“His insurance,” Ji-hoon had called records like these.
Choi had insured himself thoroughly.
Soo-jin turned several pages.
Then stopped.
My name.
THERESA.
Beside it were dates matching the annual transfers.
Below them were abbreviations.
M—COMPLIANT.
T—UNCHANGED.
A—NO CONTACT.
Mary Lou stared.
“What does A mean?”
Soo-jin shook her head.
“We’re still decoding it.”
I pointed at another entry.
A date from three years earlier.
Beside my name:
RISK LOW.
“She was a category,” Mary Lou said.
I knew she meant me.
Not a person.
A variable.
Something measured from far away.
Then Soo-jin turned to another page.
Mary Lou’s name appeared repeatedly.
One entry was different.
It had been written after Kang Jun’s death.
ML—RETAIN UNTIL 12 COMPLETE.
Nobody spoke.
“Twelve,” I said.
“The transfers,” Mary Lou whispered.
Choi had never intended to keep her indefinitely.
He had intended to keep her until Kang Jun’s twelve-part sequence was finished.
“What happened after twelve?” I asked.
Soo-jin did not answer.
Mary Lou understood.
“He would have killed me.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes, we do.”
Her voice remained calm.
That made it worse.
Once the archive could be opened, Mary Lou’s usefulness ended.
I looked toward the closed door separating us from wherever Choi was being held.
“Then why did he wait after the twelfth transfer?”
“The final fragment,” Soo-jin said.
“He didn’t have HOME.”
“No.”
Mary Lou leaned back.
A tiny word had kept her alive.
Home.
I almost laughed at the cruelty of it.
The thing she had been denied was the thing Choi needed.
An investigator entered and spoke to Soo-jin.
She listened.
Then asked him to repeat himself.
“What now?” I said.
“Lee Sang-ho.”
Mary Lou stood.
“Found?”
Soo-jin shook her head.
“Missing.”
His residence had been searched.
Empty.
His primary office too.
Several executives had disappeared.
One private aircraft associated with a company linked to Lee had departed the previous evening.
“Where?”
“The flight plan said Osaka.”
“Did it land?”
“No.”
The aircraft changed course over the sea.
Transponder information became inconsistent.
Then vanished from public tracking.
“Could Lee be on it?” I asked.
“Possibly.”
Mary Lou folded her arms.
“Choi knew.”
Soo-jin nodded.
Investigators thought so too.
That explained his question at the reservoir.
By the time Choi entered the tunnel, Lee may already have been fleeing.
Or Choi had helped arrange it.
The investigator said something else.
Soo-jin’s expression tightened.
“What?”
“Choi wants to talk.”
Mary Lou laughed.
“Of course.”
“Only to you.”
The room became still.
“No,” I said.
Mary Lou looked at me.
“No.”
“Mom.”
“You don’t owe him a final conversation.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t give him one.”
Soo-jin watched her.
“He says he has information about Lee.”
“He can tell investigators.”
“He refuses.”
“Then let him refuse.”
Mary Lou walked toward the window.
I could see the conflict in her shoulders.
For nine years Choi had summoned her.
Office.
Warehouse.
Dinner.
Meetings.
A phone call.
A look.
She went because refusing had consequences.
Now he had requested her again.
The difference mattered.
“He wants to feel like he still controls me,” she said.
“Yes.”
I expected her to refuse.
Instead she turned.
“I’ll see him.”
My chest tightened.
“Mary.”
“Not because he asked.”
“Then why?”
“Because this time I can leave whenever I want.”
The interview room had a glass wall.
I remained on the other side with Soo-jin and two investigators.
Choi entered in handcuffs.
No expensive coat.
No polished performance.
He sat.
Mary Lou entered afterward.
She did not sit immediately.
Choi looked at her bruised face.
“You should have accepted my agreement.”
Mary Lou pulled out the chair.
“You should have accepted prison earlier.”
He almost smiled.
She sat.
“What do you want?”
“Lee Sang-ho will leave Korea.”
“Apparently he already did.”
“He will try.”
“You know where.”
Choi looked toward the glass.
Mary Lou waited.
“You asked for me. Talk to me.”
His eyes returned to her.
“Lee has a second route.”
“Where?”
“Busan.”
“Shipping?”
“Yes.”
“A ship?”
“Container vessel.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
Mary Lou studied him.
“Why tell me?”
“I want an agreement.”
“You’re talking to the wrong person.”
“You can influence the investigators.”
“No.”
“You possess the archive.”
“Not anymore.”
That bothered him.
Good.
Mary Lou leaned back.
“What do you want?”
“Protection.”
“From Lee?”
“From the people Lee paid.”
“Police?”
“Some.”
“Prosecutors?”
Choi said nothing.
Mary Lou’s expression changed.
That silence meant yes.
The corruption extended farther than we knew.
“What are you offering?”
“Names.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“Names of people who helped Lee?”
“And people who helped me.”
Mary Lou stared.
“Why?”
“Because loyalty is a luxury for free men.”
“You spent years telling me freedom was conditional.”
Choi looked at his cuffed hands.
“I was correct.”
“No.”
Mary Lou stood.
“You were afraid.”
His eyes lifted.
“So was I.”
She pushed in her chair.
“The difference is I finally stopped calling fear power.”
She turned toward the door.
Choi spoke.
“Your husband knew.”
Mary Lou stopped.
I felt her freeze even through the glass.
“Knew what?”
“That Lee had protection inside the investigation.”
She turned.
Choi continued.
“That is why Kang Jun never went to the police.”
“He tried.”
“Not with the full archive.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there when he discovered the leak.”
Mary Lou returned to the table.
“What leak?”
Choi looked toward the glass.
He wanted leverage.
Mary Lou understood.
“No deal from me.”
“Then leave.”
She did not.
Neither did he.
Finally Choi spoke.
“Kang Jun gave one investigator a false account number.”
“A test.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“Forty-eight hours later Lee asked Kang Jun why he was inventing accounts.”
Mary Lou’s face hardened.
The police contact had reported directly to Lee.
“Name.”
Choi smiled faintly.
“Agreement.”
Mary Lou walked to the door.
“Wait.”
She stopped.
He had broken first.
Choi said the name.
Soo-jin beside me inhaled sharply.
I turned.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Her voice lowered.
“Deputy Chief Prosecutor Min.”
The title meant little to me.
Her reaction did not.
“He’s senior?”
“Very.”
“And involved in this investigation?”
Soo-jin looked through the glass.
“He approved part of it.”
The danger changed shape again.
An investigation we had trusted might contain the same man who betrayed Kang Jun years earlier.
Mary Lou came out.
Soo-jin was already moving.
“Where are you going?”
“To verify something.”
She stopped at the door.
Then looked back at us.
“Do not leave this floor.”
That sentence had become increasingly irritating.
“Soo-jin.”
She looked at me.
“If Min is compromised, Lee may know every step investigators are taking.”
Mary Lou understood.
“Including the Busan search.”
“Yes.”
“And us.”
Soo-jin nodded.
“Especially you.”
She disappeared through the door.
Mary Lou and I stood together in the suddenly unfamiliar hallway.
For a few minutes, nothing happened.
Then the overhead lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Went dark.
Emergency lights came on red.
Somewhere beyond the secured doors, an alarm began sounding.
Mary Lou grabbed my arm.
“That isn’t normal.”
A security door at the far end of the hallway clicked.
Unlocked.
Then slowly swung open.
No officer stood behind it.
Only an empty corridor.
Mary Lou looked at me.
“Mom.”
“I see it.”
Footsteps sounded beyond the doorway.
Several people.
Moving quickly toward us.
And for the first time since Choi’s arrest, I realized the building meant to protect us might be the most dangerous place we could possibly remain.
Click here to continue reading: PART 18: The Attack Inside the Investigation Building Proved Lee Sang-ho Still Had Powerful Allies, and Mary Lou Had Seconds to Decide Whom She Could Trust
Every December My Daughter Sent the Same Impossible Amount, Until One Tiny Pause Made Me Question the Life She Claimed to Have
Part 17 of 27
