They Kidnapped the Wrong Boy, So He Stayed novel · Chapter 6 of 24
Chapter 6: The Street
On Monday morning the doctor came to change the bandage, and Do-hyun walked out of the penthouse behind his back.
It was Jun-ho's idea.
He arrived at nine with a black bag, Rae-won's driver, and the look of a man who had slept in his coat.
Beom-su stood in the kitchen doorway watching him unwrap the finger.
"Your man is hovering," Jun-ho said, without looking up. "I need a clean basin of warm saline, and a second pair of hands that know where the towels are."
Beom-su did not move.
"The towels," Jun-ho said, "are in a cupboard I've never seen. Unless you want me to hunt for them and drip on the carpet."
Beom-su went to find the towels.
Jun-ho looked up and met Do-hyun's eye.
"The lift's code is four-four-one-seven," he said, very low. "Rae-won's driver sits downstairs. Go."
"Why?"
"Because you've been staring at that unlocked door since six o'clock. I'm a doctor. I know a patient who wants to run."
Do-hyun did not answer.
He got up, walked to the hall in his socks, and took the lift down.
It opened on a black marble lobby, a glass door, and a street full of grey October light.
He walked out into the air and did not look back.
He took the subway.
It was a forty-minute ride on the green line, and he stood at the door the entire way and watched the stations come and go.
Hoegi-dong looked exactly the same.
The bakery on the corner, the noodle shop with the broken sign, the long wall of the university with its posters for the autumn festival.
He turned the last corner and saw the dorm.
A man stood at the gate.
He was heavyset, in a grey cap, and he leaned on the railing with a cigarette going and his eyes on the second-floor window.
Do-hyun's window.
Every thought left his head.
He stood on the pavement with his hands at his sides and his stomach drawn tight, and nobody on the street looked at him.
The man in the cap turned his head slowly.
Do-hyun was already walking.
He crossed the road and went back down the pavement without hurrying.
He walked two blocks, then three, with the back of his neck prickling and every footstep behind him echoing in his ears.
At the end of the bakery's row, a large grey figure stood motionless beside a black sedan.
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