Emily read it twice.
Then she set my phone down on the bed between us and looked at the wall.
“Someone is watching,” she said.
“Or Joon told someone what happened tonight and they’re trying to frighten us into staying quiet.”
“Either way,” she said, “someone knows where we are and knows what we found out.”
She picked up her own phone and called a number.
It rang three times.
“Min-ji,” she said, when it picked up.
“I’m sorry to call so late.
I need a favor.
Do you still have the contact at the financial crimes unit?” A pause.
“I know.
I’ll explain everything tomorrow.
I just need to know — if someone used a spouse’s signature on a financial document without full disclosure, is that actionable?” Another pause, longer.
“Yes.
That serious.” She looked at me.
“Thank you.
I’ll call you at eight.”
She hung up.
“Min-ji is a lawyer?” I asked.
“Corporate attorney.
She’s been my friend since my first year here.” Emily was already pulling up something on her phone.
“She’s going to help us figure out what we’re actually dealing with.”
“And the message?”
“I’m going to forward it to her too.” She did it while I watched.
“Whoever sent that made a mistake.
Threatening someone is not the same as silencing them.”
I felt something loosen slightly in my chest.
This was my daughter — the one I’d raised.
Whatever Joon had done to her, he hadn’t touched this part of her.
At eight o’clock sharp, Emily called Min-ji back.
I sat at the kitchen table and listened.
The conversation lasted forty minutes.
Emily had the documents spread out in front of her.
She read sections aloud when asked.
She answered questions clearly and without emotion, the way you do when you are very frightened and very determined at the same time.
When she hung up, she sat quietly for a moment.
“The guarantee is legally questionable,” she said.
“Min-ji thinks there’s a strong argument that it was obtained through misrepresentation.
That doesn’t mean it disappears automatically, but it means we have ground to stand on.” She paused.
“She also said the people Joon borrowed from — if they’re who she thinks they are based on the document structure — they don’t typically go through official legal channels.
The message last night was probably from them, not from Joon.”
“So Joon’s debt isn’t just a financial problem,” I said.
“No,” Emily said.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
Her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Joon.
She let it ring four times.
Then she answered and put it on speaker.
“Emily.” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t slept.
“I need to talk to you.
In person.
There are things I didn’t tell you last night.
Things you need to know before you go any further with this.”
“You can say them now,” she said.
“My mother is here.”
A pause.
“All right,” he said.
“There’s someone else involved.
Someone who helped me structure the debt.
He’s the one who suggested using your name.
I didn’t — I want you to know I didn’t come up with that part on my own.”
Emily’s jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Another pause.
“My business partner,” he said.
“His name is Seo Dae-jung.
And Emily — he knows you found the documents.
He’s the one who sent that message to your mother’s phone last night.”
Emily looked at me across the table.
“How does he have my mother’s number, Joon?”
Silence.
“Joon.
How does Seo Dae-jung have my mother’s phone number?”
