I completely forgot. Jeon Jungkook had rarely been mentioned in this house. I didn’t grow up with any relatives, so I’d completely blanked on the fact that I had one. My mother grew up in foster care, never knew her father,

and had no siblings. My dad only had an estranged, younger step-brother I’d never met. I had no aunts, uncles, or cousins growing up, and my father’s parents were dead, so I didn’t have grandparents, either.

There’s only one reason he’s calling me after seventeen years.

“Um,” I mumble, searching for words. “My mother’s assistant will be handling the funeral arrangements. If you

need the details, I don’t have them. I’ll give you her number.”

“I’m not coming to the funeral.”

I still for a moment. His voice is on edge. And he hasn’t offered condolences for “my loss,” which is

unusual. Not that I need them, but why is he calling, then? Does he think my father wrote him into his will? Honestly, he might have. I have no idea.

But before I can ask him what he wants, he clears his throat.

“Your father’s attorney called me earlier, Yn, ” he told me. “Since I’m your only living relative, and you’re still

underage, your parents apparently left you in my care.”

In his care? Apparently. Sounds like this is new to him, too. I don’t need anyone’s care.

He continues, “You’ll be eighteen in a couple months, though. I’m not going to force you to do anything, so don’t

worry.”

Okay. I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I feel relieved or not.

I didn’t have time to process the reminder that I wasn’t a legal adult, and what that meant now that my parents were gone, before he assured me that it wouldn’t mean anything. My life won’t change.

Fine.

“I’m sure, growing up in that life,” he says, “you’re a hell of a lot more world-wise than we are and can take pretty good care of yourself by now anyway.”

“We?” I murmur.

“My sons and I,” he says. “Felix and Yeojun. They're not much older than you, actually. Maybe a few years.”

So, I have cousins. Or… step-cousins.

Whatever. It’s basically nothing. I play with the light blue thread on my sleep shorts.

“I just wanted to reach out to tell you that,” he finally says. “If you want to emancipate yourself, you’ll get no argument from me.

I have no interest in making anything harder for you by uprooting you from your life.” I stare at the thread, pinching it between my nails as I pull it tight. Okay, then. “Well… thank you for calling.”

And I start to pull the phone away from my ear, but then I hear his voice again.

“Do you want to come here?”

I bring the phone back to my ear.

“I didn’t mean to sound like you weren’t welcome,” he says. “You are. I just thought…” He trails off, and I listen.

He chuckles. “It’s just that we live a pretty secluded life here, Yn, ” he explains.

“It’s not much fun for a young

woman, especially one who has no idea who the hell I am, you know?” His tone turns solemn. “Your dad and I, we just…we

never saw eye to eye.” I sit there, saying nothing. I know it would be polite to talk

to him. Or maybe he expects me to ask questions.

Like what happened between him and my father? Did he know my mother?

But I don’t want to talk. I don’t care.

“Did he tell you we lived in Jeju, Korea ?” Jungkook asks softly. “Close to up in the mountains.” I draw in a breath and release it, winding the thread around

my finger. “It’s not a far ride to town in nice weather, but we get snowed in for months at a time during the winter,” he goes on.

“Very different from your life.” I raise my eyes, letting them slowly drift around the barren room I’ve barely ever slept in.

Shelves filled with books Inever finished reading. A desk piled with pretty journals I

I liked buying but hardly wrote in. I thought about decorating in here during breaks at home, but as with everything else, the

wallpaper was never purchased, because I could never decide.

I have no imagination. Yeah, my life…

The weight of my parents’ door looms ahead of me, down the hall.

Snowed in, he said. For months at a time.

“No cable. No noise. No WiFi sometimes,” he says. “Just the sounds of the wind and the falls and the thunder.

My heart aches a little, and I don’t know if it’s his words or his voice. Just the sounds of the wind and the falls and the

thunder. Sounds amazing, actually. All of it sounds kind of nice. No one can get to you.

“My boys are used to the seclusion, ( the state of being private and away from other people.) ” he tells me. “But you…”

I pick up the thread again and twist it around my finger.

But me…? “I came out here when I wasn’t much older than you,” he muses, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I had soft hands and a head full of shit I didn’t know what to do with. I was barely alive.”

Needles prick my throat, and I close my eyes.

“There’s something to be said for sweat and sun.” He sighs “Hard work, solace, and keeping busy. We’ve built everything we have here.

It’s a good life.”

Maybe that’s what I need. To run away like he did at my age. Dive into anything different, because the only thing I feel

I'm tired.

“Have you had a good life?” he nearly whispers. I keep my eyes closed, but I feel like I have a truck sitting on my lungs. I’ve had a great life. I have a closet full of all the designer clothes and bags everyone expects a famous star’s daughter to own. I’ve been to two dozen countries, and I can

buy anything I want. My home is huge. My fridge is stocked.

How many people would happily trad

e places with me? How lucky am I?

“Do you want to come here, Yn?” Jungkook asks again.

To be continued ….