I am woken from my unintentional nap by the sound of my cellphone's shrill, electronic cry. I'd passed out at my desk, it seems, and for a moment I struggle to recall how I'd ended up here at all.

Flashes of the day cross my mind as I straighten myself up, and reach into my pocket for my cellular device.

"Hello?" I greet, voice gravelly and harsh with the after effects of sleep.

"Is this Mr.Kim?"

The voice is feminine, and it sounds as if she's been crying.

Absentmindedly, I trap the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I stand. It takes all of maybe four strides to cross the room with legs like mine. And, stepping out of the door, I reach into my pockets for my pack and flame.

"This is he, " I reply, fingers curling around the edges of the pack. "How can I be of assistance?"

There is a pause, and I take full advantage of it to pull the pack out, retrieving a single cigarette as well as my lighter. The wind is a little more insistent than usual, and the air, cold and wet. But I manage to light up, and take a long, lazy drag.

"My parents don't want to investigate, " she replies, slowly, voice nearly angry with obvious disagreement. "But I want to know what happened to my sister. I want the bastard to pay for what he's done."

"Ms. Smith's sister, I presume?"

"Yes. "

I take another puff, and watch as the smoke swirls in air about me.

"It's natural, " I empathize, "that your parents don't want to dig into something so painful."

"With all due respect, " she retorts, "there's nothing natural about it. It's cowardly. Ignoring the fact that Hailee was murdered won't bring her back."

"If you help me Ms..."

"Jessie, you can call me Jessie."

"Jessie, " I concede, speaking around the cloud of smoke that I have exhaled. "If you help me, I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to ensure the killer faces justice."

"That is why I'm calling."

I flick my cigarette, ashes drifting through the air across my vision. Her passive aggressive emphasis on the word "is" doesn't escape my notice, but I'm also fully aware that she is likely grieving, and on edge because of it.

"The next step will be to book an appointment, " I continue, "I'll need you to come in and sign some documents related to the case, and we can discuss everything then. What time works best for you?"

I hear the sounds of shuffling from the other end of the phone, and yelling in the background.

Jessie, it seems, is arguing with her parents, who clearly aren't pleased with her rebellion. I wait patiently, taking another pull from my cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with my foot.

"I'm sorry about that, " she apologizes, suddenly returning to our conversation once more. "Are you busy right now?"

Pulling up the sleeve of my suit, I glance at the watch on my wrist. It's nearly eight o'clock at night, long past business hours. Of course, that doesn't matter to me, not with this case anyway.

"I am not, " I reply, "but I'm thinking I could use a cup of coffee. Do you know how to get to Beth's Cafe?"

Said cafe isn't like my old haunt, but the coffee is good, and I don't have to relive so many awful memories there.

"It's cramped interior would have bothered Nari, " I think to myself.

But maybe that's why I like it. In that cramped space, there isn't room for Nari's spirit to haunt me. And since it's so vastly different from anything she would have liked, I don't have to think about her everytime I slide into a booth.

"I can meet you there in about thirty minutes, " she agrees. "Forty tops."

"Alright, " I confirm. "I'll see you there."

I head back inside to gather my umbrella, and lock the door on my way out. If I head out now, I'll get there before her and that suits me just fine. Eomma always said "if you're on time you're late, but if you're early, you're on time".

After snapping open the button that wraps that little piece of plastic around my umbrella, I press the button on the handle. With a click, and small pop, it extends.

The night sky is tainted, glowing as the cities lights are carried upon the mist. I carefully avoid puddles as I make my way down the sidewalk, heading south towards the cafe. I could take the bus, there are a few that run this late at night. But, I feel like a good walk might help me clear my head at least a bit before I meet with Jessie.

I'm concerned, and unsure as to whether I should reveal to her my own reasons for wanting to catch the bastard that murdered her sister. Should I just keep my mouth shut? Surely there is no need for me to volunteer such information, especially if she doesn't ask. And I highly doubt that she will.

She probably won't care about my reasons for approaching her family about this case, she'll likely be more concerned with her own need for justice.

As I walk, I set my brain to work determining questions for the deceased woman's sister.

Had her sister been involved in anything illegal before? Did she have a criminal history at all? And if so, what were the charges? Who handled the case? Did Jessie also know the other victim, the male?

These are only the first few that come to mind.

The cafe looms before me, shaking me from my thoughts. It doesn't even feel as if I've been walking that long, but it's a common enough occurrence for me. I often lose track of time, space, and various other things when I think heavily. And since it's something that I do often, the side result is that I can often be quite clumsy.

I fold my umbrella up once more, snapping that piece of plastic around it once more to ensure it remains closed. And after giving it a thorough shake, attempting to fling loose whatever droplets might still remain, I step inside. Just upon entering, I deposit my umbrella within the small container specifically for that purpose. The barista greets me with a smile.

"Hey Joonie!" She exclaims, bright red hair shifting against he face as she bounces excitedly. "The usual?"

I nod, and make my way to a booth further into the back.

There aren't many people here at this time of night. Though Seattle never really sleeps, most residents are surely either tucked into their beds, busy working, or partying the night away. This leaves the place nearly empty, save for a couple of haggard looking men who sit in a booth by the windows.

"Here you go!"

The barista, who's name I can never remember despite how easily she seems to remember mine, places my americano upon the table. She is smiling, and giving me that same coy look she does anytime I come in on her shift. I get the distinct impression that she likes me, but I haven't done anything to encourage it.

I'm not ready to move on, and might never be in all honesty. But even if I were, the redhead simply isn't my type. She's too bubbly, too happy.

Too much like Nari.

"Would it be okay if I sit with you for a bit?" She asks shyly, fingers lacing together in front of her. "I'm due a break, and it's been a while since you've come in. I'd love to catch up."

I shake my head.

"I'm afraid not, " I reply, voice flat, "I'm actually here on business. My client should be arriving any minute now."

She looks crestfallen, and I try to ignore how uncomfortable that makes me feel.

It's not that she isn't a sweet girl, or that I dislike her, but she clearly wants more from me than to simply "catch up". And I don't want her to get the wrong idea.

"I see, " she murmurs softly, "maybe next time."