First, she did something that he never thought that she would do, she stooped to think. And think, she did. She mulled over the things that he said, trying to form the questions for the information that she needed. He waited in silence while watching the cogs in her head turn.

She whir they did. The speed of her thoughts was obvious. He thought he could smell smoke.

He had always known that she was a wicked smart woman. He fell in love with her mind, her all too pretty package was just a bonus. If she had looked like a bearded bear, it would not have kept him away, but making children might have been difficult.

She was making all sorts of connections in her head, inferences, and assumptions – right and wrong both – and was doing all this brain sweat work much faster than even he knew.

She always knew that she needed to be hard on her daughter. This world was not kind to women. Especially pretty ones. And her daughter, who took after her of course, was all too pretty. It was a good thing that she was also highly intelligent. And to wrap the package together, her daughter also had the personality to back it up. She was unable to say the words but she loved her daughter so very much and was proud of her.

But, she could not be soft. She needed to make her strong by being hard on her. In her own twisted way, the harder she was, the more love she showed. She thought that her husband had figured this out, but was not sure. He was pretty smart, too.

She glared at him. He said that Seulgi was in danger, but not by what, how, or in what way. So she wanted to start with this.

“You said that she was in danger. Both past and present tense. Explain.”

“I can’t. Not won’t, but can’t. I don’t know everything. She was attacked, I don’t know by whom or what. She was very nearly harmed. The person was trying to kill her. He, again, I am assuming that it was a ‘he’, was stopped. Permanently. What all ‘Permanently’ entails, I am not sure, but I trust that this person will not bother her ever again. I have that on good authority. Again, don’t ask whose authority, I cannot answer that.”

Again, there was a lot said, but not a whole lot of things said as well. It was frustrating. She could see him wanting to say more, but cannot. She had to give him credit for giving what he could. That was enough for a stay of execution, but not enough to give clemency.

“Who is this Yeji? Is she the same Yeji from the office?”

“Yes, they work together. We’ve known her for years, just not known her this well.” She kept her cover extremely well, he thought. He wondered if Seulgi even knew the extent of her background. Probably not, he concluded.

That’s OK. Because when he got home, he was going to start investing everything around his darling daughter. No rock would be unturned. If he knew what this would net him, he might not have been so excited to stir the hornet’s nest.  He was so distracted, he started mixing metaphors before he knew it.

To throw him off, she came up with the following, “Should I start calling you Alfred, too? Do you prefer that?”

“Of course not. Just refer to me as you normally do. And before you ask, that is my real name.”

The possibility that she married him without knowing his real name never occurred to her. She was shocked once again.  Her night of shocks was not over just yet.

A pajama clad Seulgi yawned as she came out of the bedroom. The yawn was so wide that they could hear her jaw pop across the room. They winced in sympathy. She walked behind her father and said “Good night, poppa,” and kissed him on the top of the head. She surprised all three of them by walking behind her mother and doing the same thing with a “Good night, momma.” Seulgi had not done that for over twenty years.

Seulgi waved a lazy hand in the air and said in a sleepy way, “Love you. Go to bed and sleep well.” Then she disappeared back into her bedroom. Yeji was already in bed, lying on her side and stroking the cat. They both looked obscenely pleased with themselves.

He looked at his wife and said, “That is pretty good advice. I am beaten. I really need to get some sleep. Shall we continue this tomorrow?” He stood and proffered his hand. Tomorrow would be tumultuous, they would need their sleep.

She took it and they walked to their bedroom, hand in hand.

Bhuwakul slumped down on his lower spine, sipping about 3 fingers of cognac. He was glaring at the person in the chair across from him. She had the same amount of liquor in her glass and was matching him drink for drink.

She was grinning. He was not. He downed his glass and reached for the bottle to refill his glass.

“Why don’t you just swill it from the bottle, you barbarian?” she asked.

“I have seen you drink before, you know. You have no room to talk, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Bhuwakul. After all we’ve been through, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“You? Feelings?” he scoffed.

She theatrically placed a well manicured hand over her ample bosom. “You wound me, sirrah!”

They both laughed softly at the absurdity of her words. Neither of them could take her seriously at this moment. It was probably the very fine and expensive cognac. She made sure to remark about this the more she drank.

Wendy was cozy and warm. She was tucked into a large, warm bed, sipping some hot chocolate. Normally, she would add just a splash of peppermint schnapps for flavor, but she didn’t bother trying to suggest this. It would have been nixed before she managed to ask.

Her mother, recently returned from who-knows-where, was sitting on the couch in her room, with her feet across her father’s lap. He was rubbing her feet absently while all three were enjoying whatever books they were currently engrossed in.

Wendy was reading a murder mystery, a guilty pleasure. Her mother was reading up on small unit tactics. Her father, of all people, was a cheesy romance addict.

Thus her quiet family passed their evening as she recuperated.

Jackson wondered where his mother had wandered off to.