Page 75 of If You Could See the Sun
And everything happens very quickly.
Tooquickly—so quick that it’s almost anticlimactic.
The door swings open and I think I catch a glimpse of a gloved hand reaching out, pulling him in, and I manage to grab Peter’s phone from his pocket just in time for the door to slam shut again, with Peter trapped behind it.
There’s a rustling sound from inside, a series ofthuds, and Peter’s voice, more confused than afraid: “What are you—”
Then it cuts off into silence. Just like that.
It isn’t violent. It isn’t anything.
If I weren’t gripping Peter’s phone so tight my knuckles bled white, I’d think he was never here at all.
I stare at the door for a long time, as though in a dream, a nightmare, until a small voice in the back of my head urges:Leave.
Get out of here. Your job is done.
I tear my eyes away and move, but the second I turn the corner, my legs give way beneath me.
I sink straight to the floor as if someone’s removed all the bones from my body. I gasp for air that doesn’t seem to be there, wait for the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach to go away because I’m safe—I did what I had to—I succeeded—
But the sick sensation only grows. Nausea rises up my throat, filling my mouth with saliva, the sour taste of regret.
God, I must be the worst criminal in the world.
I should be celebrating. I should be thinking about all the money that’ll be added to my bank account.One million RMB.Enough for me to never have to stress about being sent off to Maine or a local school again. I won’t even have to stress about college.
But instead, all I can focus on is whatever’s happening on the other side of that door. Peter had stopped talking midsentence. Does that mean they’d gagged him? Hit him? Surely I would’ve heard it if they did...
Peter’s phone beeps.
I almost jump out of my skin. My hands are shaking as I hold up the screen, expecting to see some kind of criminal alert or imposter warning or a message from the police.
But it’s none of that. It’s worse.
It’s a Kakao message from his mom.
Are u having a good time in Suzhou??
U must already be sleeping (if not, go to bed right now!!! your body still growing), but your father and I miss u very much. He wanted to call u earlier, but you know how busy work has been for him... It’ll all be worth it when he wins the campaign.
Oh! We made some yummy fish today. Here is a pic.
There’s a somewhat blurry photo of a half-eaten grilled fish dish below, a pair of chopsticks lying casually beside the plate, and the hunched-over silhouette of a man in the background. Peter’s father, most likely.
My chest tightens, tightens until I can’t breathe. The back of my eyes burn.
But more messages are coming in.
It’s a new recipe, and your father says it’s very good. I’ll make some for u as soon as u get home (and your favorite black bean noodles too)
Take care, my son. Make sure you eat well and stay safe and wear a lot of warm clothes! I checked the weather and it says it’s going to be cold in Suzhou tomorrow. Remember your health matters more than “fashion”
Your father is scolding me for nagging you now, so I will stop here
We love you always. Give us a call when you can!
I turn the screen down, my stomach in knots.
