#21

The child he first met could not smile like this. He couldn’t smile naturally or even make eye contact.

Back then, the first thing the child did upon waking in the morning was shed anxiety like tears. He looked at the floor the moment he woke up. He slid his bare feet into shoes called a miserable life.

Now, when he wakes up, he turns his head to look out the hotel window. He looked at the window where the sun came in and the scenery, then let out a big yawn. And when Tennessee told him the time to leave, he moved accordingly. If he had spare time, he would turn on the TV to watch animations, speak peaceful words, or sleep a bit more.

“Tennessee, I bought water too.”

The child ran back, a large drink in one hand and a bottle of water for Tennessee in the other. Under the hot sun, dressed in cool clothes and sunglasses, the child looked less like a homeless child and more like a child who had stepped out of the house for a moment to find a shelter. Tennessee’s gaze shifted to the bag in the car. Of course, it belonged to the child.

As the number of belongings gradually increased and the child grew attached to trivial things, he eventually ended up buying the bag.

A bit of discipline had been necessary.

‘You call this organizing?’

‘….’

‘Take everything out and spread it.’

These were the words Tennessee spoke after seeing clothes stacked like pancakes shortly after buying them. To think he now had to teach him how to fold clothes. With a sigh and a gesture, the child moved hesitantly. Until then, the child only knew how to roughly fold and stuff clothes; he didn’t seem to know how to neatly organize his belongings. He really learned nothing in foster care, Tennessee concluded.

‘From now on, if you can’t organize like this, know that I’ll throw it all away. Do you think I won’t?’

I think you definitely would.

The child had to suppress such a retort.

Still, because he understood well when taught, the child always folded his clothes neatly since then.

Chuckling at the sight of the neatly placed bag, Tennessee checked the time. It was time to depart again.

“What do you want for lunch?”

“Pizza.”

“Let’s do that.”

“Um… Tennessee.”

The child cautiously called out to Tennessee as he fastened his seatbelt.

“Are you being nice to me lately because you feel sorry?”

Tennessee raised an eyebrow, questioning what he meant.

“…You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re writing a novel.”

“Lately, my eyes snap open in the morning.”

The child mumbled while sipping his drink through a straw.

“In the past, I’d sigh when dawn broke. Here it starts again. When will it end. It hurts when I wake up. When I sleep, I forget the pain and what kind of life I’m living, but when I wake up, I remember it all again.”

As he started the engine, the car began to vibrate faintly. The child, feeling shy, fidgeted with the bag of snacks he had bought.

“But it’s not like that now. I wish the sun would rise twice a day.”

“Be quiet.”

“Thank you for letting me come with you instead of leaving me at the hotel.”

“I said be quiet.”

“If you’re staying with me like this because you feel sorry for me that day… you can do things to make you feel sorry for me several more times.”

Tennessee rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. Unaware of his state, the child was giggling. This fragile appearance, stripped of toxicity—Tennessee wondered if the child had been like this before Huston tore him apart.

Because he feels sorry… Had he been exceptionally kind to the child recently? Looking back, he didn’t particularly feel that way.

However, there was a part of his own behavior that was questionable. After the Alejandro matter was settled and Tennessee finally had time, he finally opened the documents he had received from Megan.

[Taylor Watson]

When he saw that name in the documents, Tennessee had retraced his past for a long time.

Perhaps it was because he saw that name. The world was indeed small.

Ending his thoughts, Tennessee put on his sunglasses. He didn’t forget a blunt remark.

“You need to maintain some self-respect.”

“I know.”

Watching the child answer energetically, as if he had no shame, Tennessee lightly tapped the child’s cheek. Then he held out his hand.

“Give it.”

What he was demanding was the drink. As soon as he received the styrofoam cup, he downed more than a quarter of it in one go. “Tennessee!” the child protested, but Tennessee ignored him. If he let the child drink too much, the child often wanted to go to the bathroom. Then they would have to turn back the way they came or exit the road they were on, and finding a bathroom was always Tennessee’s responsibility.

“Now be quiet.”

The pickup truck departed with a fairly loud noise and a bass-like vibration.

* * *

“This kid is still with you.”

Megan wasn’t the type to ask useless questions often, but since he had been accompanying the child for several weeks, she couldn’t hide her curiosity. She frowned while looking at the child.

“Bringing a kid along. Even if you came through the back door, this is a strip club.”

“I know.”

Tennessee didn’t feel like bringing a child to a place like this either. However, the child had intermittent nightmares—though the frequency was gradually decreasing—and was anxious, so lately, he took him wherever he went. Turning her attention away from the child, Megan crossed her arms.

“Tennessee, how is the work you were digging into going?”

“I’m handling it.”

The child sat quietly, sipping a snow cone. He kept his voice down so as not to interfere with their conversation. Lightly stroking the child’s head, Tennessee asked,

“What about that woman?”

Megan asked, “Who?” and then searched her memory. She remembered Tennessee complaining about a woman he had a one-night stand with and telling her to fire her.

“Brahma on her chest?”

“Yeah.”

“She was fired long ago.”

“Haven’t seen her since?”

“Nope.”

That’s strange. Tennessee wore a slanted smile.

“The job I requested?”

Megan handed over the prepared documents.

“This is why I called you today.”

Opening the envelope, Megan handed him a single note. It was an invoice.

“Listen carefully. I’ll stop here.”

Megan let out a sigh.

“Your intuition wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t find your client. They’re gone. They don’t exist. Did you track the broker?”

Megan’s voice naturally dropped, expecting Tennessee to demand an explanation. However, Tennessee’s expression remained gentle. He closed and sealed the envelope as if he had already known.

“Rick said something similar.”

No wonder he wasn’t surprised. Megan raised both hands. Tennessee recalled the urgent call from Rick yesterday.

[The target exists. The history isn’t much different from what you told me. But I can’t find the client. There’s no broker either. It just cuts off at some point.]

“Rick said that too. But that doesn’t make sense. I remember checking the documents myself. It wasn’t some new broker who popped up. They wouldn’t have created a non-existent person for no reason just to give work.”

There was nothing special about the job. A reasonable amount for a reasonable difficulty. It was a job like any other.

[This is a big shot. Creating a person who doesn’t exist—that’s the work of a big shot. CIA? FBI? Tennessee, I don’t know what you were involved in, but I think you crossed someone truly powerful. It has to be.]

“Where were they bought off?”

Anxiety had turned into confirmation. Tennessee sighed, and the child, who had been quietly eating a snow cone, sensed the atmosphere and looked up.

“I was selective about the jobs I took.”

“I know, Tennessee. That you’re a killer with a line, however faint it may be.”

Megan added. It was something Tennessee already knew all too well.

“Line or no line, you’re still a killer. …Anyway, Tennessee, I’m stopping here. I’m sorry.”

Tennessee recalled the intuition that had chilled the back of his neck in the Seven-Eleven parking lot. His intuition was always right.

He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was a trap. He had fallen into one. If it were out of a grudge, they could have come and killed him at any time; he couldn’t fathom the motive or the mastermind behind digging a trap that required such effort.

“Sorry to bring this up now, Tennessee, but who is this kid, really?”

Tennessee rubbed his mouth anxiously. Damn, he had wasted too much time. He should have moved immediately after contacting Megan. He shouldn’t have spent time on someone like Alejandro.

“Someone. A kid for you to look after.”

“What?!”

“Tennessee?!”

Both Megan and the child shouted.

Ignoring them, Tennessee packed up the documents. Yes, he couldn’t stay here. He shouldn’t have come here in the first place—no, he shouldn’t have wasted this much time.

“Where to? CIA?”

“Who knows.”

Stealing a car to leave that place had been a good choice. However, he should have driven without stopping to avoid being tracked. Stopping by restaurants with the child, resting, staying in proper accommodations… he had moved in a way that left his trail completely exposed even after arriving in Texas. And what about the Alejandro matter? Damn. He had grown dull.

But he couldn’t cowardly blame the child. Tennessee had made the decisions himself; the child was merely a kidnapped person. Tennessee had to take responsibility and move immediately to resolve the situation.

Megan, burying her face in the desk as if she had a headache, asked, “Where are you going?”

“To hide.”

The child was lost in the middle of the conversation between the two adults. An unexpected gust of wind had swept through the previously calm air. Did they hear correctly? To look after the child. That child—they must be talking about me. The half-empty cup fell limply from the child’s hand. Treated openly like luggage being passed from one adult’s hand to another.

But the sad part was the thought that perhaps this was the correct treatment.

“Megan, do you have a car?”

The child didn’t question it and simply bowed their head. The child had already noticed that the situation was turning urgent.

What will happen to me? And just before that question could surface, a larger question struck: then what will happen to Tennessee?

“I do. Wait. It’s an employee’s car. I’ll walk out with you.”

Megan left the office to grab the keys.

“…Tennessee?”

Tennessee lowered himself to the tense child. The child’s eyes shook with anxiety. Lately, the child had been constantly uneasy. When walking behind Tennessee, the child would sometimes stop while running to look back. Only after confirming that Tennessee was still walking would they turn around again.

‘Tennessee!’

He felt as if he could never pluck that shout from his ears. Tennessee pulled out a handgun. It was a spare gun he had set aside for the child as soon as he heard news from Rick. Despite it not being the first time, the child hesitated. Though he placed the gun in the child’s hand, the child didn’t grip it firmly, so Tennessee wrapped his hands around the child’s, forcing a tight grip.