Page 15 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

I freeze mid-step.

Walker-Choi?

Me?

Chapter 6

SEAN

THE WOMAN IN THE HOODIE is looking for me?

It's certainly possible someone elsecouldhave the same last name, but come on, not very likely. Walker-Choi is a unique blending of my dad's surname and my mom's. The Korean side of my family hated that my mom married an American soldier, so they fought to keep me a Choi. My parents came up with an easy solution: both their names combined. The Chois were grumbly but ultimately accepted the compromise.

Hoodie Woman is waiting anxiously for the booth attendant to reply.

The booth attendant, a woman with an aggressively perfect blonde ponytail, looks confused. "Um, I'll see if I can check." Shepicks up a tablet, swipes through some screens, then makes a quick call.

I linger nearby, pretending to look at video doorbells. Why would Hoodie Woman be looking for me specifically? That's so strange.

Ponytail ends her call and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, we don't have any security personnel with that name. Is there something specific you're looking for? I'd be happy to—"

Hoodie Woman is already moving on to the next booth.

There's no way I can't follow now, so I tag behind several feet.

She turns suddenly, like some sixth sense alerted her to my presence. Before I can scramble for cover, her gaze locks onto me through those oversized glasses, and her entire body goes rigid like a tree. Recognition? Fear? Hard to tell with most of her face hidden, but I can see her hands wringing the straps of her tote bag like she might use it as a weapon.

She's staring at me like I'm a ghost from her past. I never forget a face, so I wish I could see hers better to determine if we've met.

I get that sinking feeling in my gut that I hate. What if she knew Wunmi? Knew I was supposed to protect her.

Hoodie Woman backpedals, clutching her bag tighter, then spins and hurries toward the exit. The crowd parts around her urgent movements like water around stone.

I follow. Whoever she is, whatever's going on, I need to find out what she needs, even if it's about Wunmi.

"Wait," I call out, moving after her at a brisk walk. I'm not running—running makes security nervous, and the last thing I need is to get tackled by those lunch-planning amateurs at the door. "Hey, hold up a second."

She disappears around a corner, her black hoodie bobbing through the crowd. By the time I round the same corner, the hallway is empty except for a few stragglers checking their phones.

Where did she—

I turn another corner and nearly walk face-first into a canister of pepper spray.

"Woah, woah," I say. My hands shoot up reflexively and I take a quick step back.

Hoodie Woman is pressed against the wall, arm extended, mace pointed directly at my face. Her breathing is rapid, shoulders rising and falling in short bursts. Even through those glasses, I can see the terror in her rounded brown eyes.

"Get back," she hisses.

I take another step, keeping my hands visible. "Okay. I'm back."

She sizes me up like I'm something that crawled out from the sewer. Something dangerous that came straight from her nightmares. The way her eyes track every small twitch of my body reminds me of cornered prey; she's calculating escape routes while preparing to fight if necessary.

"You're seriously trying to attack me at a security convention?" Her voice wavers but there's steel underneath it. "I'll scream and the security guards will come running. But I'll spray you first. I'm very good at using this."

I nod slowly, keeping my hands up and body still. "I believe it." I glance at her grip on the mace. "Though if you really want to connect with my eyes, you should adjust your thumb placement. Right now you're set up for more of a wide spray pattern."

She glances down at the canister, momentarily confused, then adjusts her grip exactly how I suggested. Better leverage, better aim.

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