Chapter 44 · Seoul Box

Jae's forearm hits the elevator panel before I can. The doors that were about to close slide back open, and now there's nowhere for me to go but backward, into the cart full of dirty linen I was pushing two seconds ago. The wheels squeal against tile, loud in the empty hallway, and I grab the edge of it just to have something to hold onto that isn't him.

"Say it again," he says. "In Korean this time."

"I don't speak Korean." My voice comes out steadier than I feel, which is the only thing keeping me upright right now.

"You repeated four words back to Grant an hour ago. Word for word. In my accent." He steps in. Not touching me, just close enough that I can smell laundry starch off his shirt and something sharper underneath it, coffee gone cold in his hand since six a.m. "Nobody does that by accident, Lila."

The ledger's in my apron pocket.