SATURDAY 85

When we went outside, the Shaman and the Professor were indeed there, dressed in black suits and greeting the members of the funeral committee. The Shaman was already acquainted with some of the company executives who were close to my father.

I combed my hair, which had become messy from sleeping, straightened my crumpled clothes, and stepped out into the funeral parlor. The Shaman brushed past the people and strode toward me, pulling me into an embrace.

“Inha, oh, my baby, what are we going to do?”

The Shaman said this while holding me, his voice choked with tears. The people around us turned solemn, though a few curious glances were mixed in. They were likely people from the company who didn’t know the Shaman.

Since they would have already checked the list of close relatives, it might have been puzzling to see the Shaman and Professor Jang show up at such an hour and act so intimately with me.

The moment the Shaman hugged me tightly, I felt goosebumps. However, I couldn’t bring myself to push him away because of the atmosphere, so I just stayed in his arms. It was at least a comfort to know that Mr. Taeseon was right behind me.

But while Mr. Taeseon was shaking hands with Professor Jang, the Shaman whispered into my ear in a very small voice.

“Does it make you feel better to finally kill even your father?”

“….”

“The autopsy wouldn’t have found a cause. Because there is no cause. Your father died at the hands of the ghosts that follow you around. It happened because the warding ritual was delayed.”

Just then, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me lightly. The familiar touch of a hand. It was Mr. Taeseon.

The Shaman, having lost his hold on me, stared at me with icy eyes for a split second before quickly returning to his original expression and speaking again.

“Your face has worn down so much in just one day, Inha. How will you endure five days? Go upstairs and get an injection first, okay?”

It was a kind voice, eerily different from when he was whispering. Professor Jang approached beside him.

“That’s right, I’ve secured a hospital room. It’s a small IV drip that takes about two hours, so let’s go and get it quickly.”

I shook my head.

“It’s morning now, so guests will be flocking in. I have to stay in the parlor.”

“Then just go up and have the IV set up, then bring it down with you. I’ve already written the prescription.”

“He is fine, Professor. Thank you for your concern.”

This time, Mr. Taeseon answered for me. An IV drip…. hearing that word, for some reason, the hallucination-like scene I saw when I was with Mr. Taeseon came to mind. The Professor walking somewhere while humming to himself.

Could it be that the Professor did something to my father?

The sudden thought made me shudder. No way, that couldn’t be. I was just having excessive delusions because I was tired and exhausted. There was no reason for the Professor to kill my father—no.

Actually, Mr. Taeseon said that the Shaman and the Professor were the ones who caused the car accident. If their goal was my parents’ deaths, Professor Jang had plenty of means to murder my father while he was lying in bed if he set his mind to it.

They said the pulmonary edema came as they reduced the diuretic prescription. I had also checked the prescription left in the EMR. I saw that the diuretics had been slightly reduced.

But what if someone had arbitrarily and “drastically” reduced that “slight” amount during the injection?

Only Professor Jang would be capable of such a thing.

Before I knew it, my uncle was also standing behind Mr. Taeseon. It seemed he had seen the Shaman and the Professor at the condolence money desk, monitored the situation, and then come over.

“Please speak with me… for a moment.”

“Speak? We should pay our respects first.”

To the person you killed? I felt like bugs were crawling over my body, but I had to accept their condolences for now. There were too many eyes watching.

The two of them performed two and a half bows before my father’s portrait and exchanged bows with me, Mr. Taeseon, and my uncle. Throughout the process, my head felt like it was going to explode from the complex thoughts.

Once the sequence was over, I guided the two into the chief mourner’s room. My uncle, the company people, and a few relatives sat in the parlor, while we entered the chief mourner’s room and closed the door.

“…Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yes, Inha. I’m thirsty.”

I caught a glimpse of the Professor. There were no people here, so there was no need, yet even the Professor was calling me Inha. It seemed they were up to something.

I took four bottled drinks out of the refrigerator and placed one in front of each person. Meanwhile, Mr. Taeseon had dropped the sorrowful yet calm expression he wore outside and was looking at the two with a freezing gaze.

Perhaps it was true that he was thirsty, because as soon as I gave him the juice, the Professor opened the cap and gulped it down. The Shaman did not touch his.

The atmosphere sharpened the moment the Professor put the empty bottle down on the table. I had much I wanted to say, and the Shaman and the Professor had likely come prepared to keep their mouths shut. I asked immediately.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

The Professor asked back in a nonchalant voice.

“Why….”

“Inyoung.”

When the words “Why did you kill my father?” were at the tip of my tongue, Mr. Taeseon lightly grabbed my thigh.

“I’ll speak.”

“….”

At Mr. Taeseon’s words, I realized something. I was so agitated that my voice was trembling. I had rarely felt such fluctuating emotions, so I hadn’t noticed. In this state, it was certain that whatever I said wouldn’t come out right.

“Jang Sehyeon.”

“….”

The Professor flinched and glared at Mr. Taeseon. The Professor was well over forty…. so it was natural for him to be offended by Mr. Taeseon’s attitude. However, Mr. Taeseon did not change his tone.

“How did you kill him?”

“What did you say?”

“My father-in-law. I’m asking how you killed him.”

Mr. Taeseon rested his booted foot on the table and pushed it toward the Professor and the Shaman. In the process, the empty bottle tipped over and went roll, roll, falling to the floor.

“There are plenty of ways to kill. For a doctor to perform a procedure on a critically ill patient that wouldn’t even show up in an autopsy… wouldn’t it be as easy as pie?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You think you erased all the CCTV footage of Professor Jang going to the hospital room that day, don’t you?”

“….”

For the first time, a crack appeared in the Professor’s face. Suddenly, the image of his back from the hallucination flashed through my mind. The Professor was humming.

“Winter Night….”

The Professor’s gaze turned toward me.

“You were singing that song while… walking, weren’t you? Toward Father and Mother’s room. It was definitely the VIP ward hallway.”

At my words, even Mr. Taeseon looked at me. The Professor’s face suddenly turned deathly pale. It seemed I had hit the mark.

Mr. Taeseon wore a briefly puzzled expression, but he countered nonchalantly.

“That’s right, the image of you walking down the hallway, the image of you entering the room. In the room, you did something with your back to the CCTV. You probably felt relieved thinking you deleted it all, but isn’t it a bit low-level to feel at ease just because you put the files in the recycle bin?”

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t understood a single thing you’ve been saying for a while now.”

The Professor laughed with a face that regained its composure in an instant. There were many points in Mr. Taeseon’s words that could be contested. However, true to his nature, the Professor didn’t fall for any of it and simply laughed leisurely. But one thing… he reacted to the humming. Winter Night. It was definitely that song.

It wasn’t that the sound was clearly audible. It was vague, as if hearing it underwater, but I could tell what song it was. I had walked as if following the Professor and heard that song.

“Inyoung, you too. Could you have been dreaming? You’re talking as if you saw me in person just now, aren’t you?”

“….”

“I haven’t seen Inyoung for a while.”

“Then… isn’t that an admission that walking down that hallway is a fact, Professor?”

For a second, the Professor’s eyes wavered. But he regained his composure quickly and laughed again.

“That’s just a figure of speech. It’s a bit much to keep pushing things in that direction. Think about it, Inyoung. Why would I harm the Chairman? I have no reason to do that, right?”

“….”

“I know you want to blame something for your father’s death. But you shouldn’t pin it on someone else. You know very well yourself why this happened.”

“…Yes, my child. Don’t you already know everything? How it all happened.”

I almost wavered for a moment at those words. Then, Mr. Taeseon’s sharp voice cut in from the side.

“Have these things still not snapped out of it?”

Simultaneously, he kicked the heavy table. The two of them jumped up from their seats in an awkward posture to avoid the table being pushed toward them.

“I—I’m sorry, please sit down.”

I apologized reflexively and tried to pull the table back. However, I don’t know what the table was made of, but it was so heavy it wouldn’t budge. How did he kick this with one foot…? I looked at Mr. Taeseon in confusion, and he tilted an eyebrow, grabbed the table with one hand, and pulled it. Only then could the two sit back down.

“By the way, Inyoung. How did you see Professor Jang walking? Did you have a dream?”

“Pardon? Ah…. I don’t know if it was a dream or reality. It was just, the Professor was walking, and I was following him….”

“Stop talking, Inyoung.”

I flinched at Mr. Taeseon’s sudden voice. Then I looked at the Shaman. The Shaman was… he-he, smiling with a terrifying face.