Chapter 16
‘I became an arsonist who suffocated six people with toxic gas overnight.’
Maybe it was because of the shock. For days, she hadn’t stepped outside, and even the nightly threatening calls she had been making at 10 PM without fail had ceased. If Baek Sa-eon’s plan was to intimidate the culprit, it was a resounding success.
When “Voice-Altered Threats” started trending on search engines, even her appetite vanished.
‘How did I end up being the voice of an arsonist?’
The more she thought about it, the more unfair, absurd, and infuriating it felt.
Not wanting to dwell on that morning any longer or sink further into helplessness, Heeju decided to step outside for the first time in a while.
It was a shallow desire, but she wanted to do something meaningful for once.
‘Though, I only ever have one place to go… the Sign Language Interpretation Center.’
The moment she entered, she nearly collided with Director Han Joon, who was rushing out with a serious expression.
As always, he was dressed in a fluorescent Hawaiian shirt and a gold necklace—a far cry from the muted attire he often lectured sign language interpreters to wear.
“My dear! Hallelujah!”
Seeing his savior come, Han Joon exclaimed, “You came at just the right time! Can you do me a favor, please?”
‘What’s the matter?’
She freed her hand from his grip and asked in sign language.
“We’ve got a sudden no-show today, and there’s no one else to fill in.”
The director’s furrowed brows revealed his predicament.
‘For what position?’
Han Joon led her to the Call Relay Service Center, a facility providing real-time communication assistance for the hearing-impaired. Intermediaries bridged language barriers, translating speech, text, and sign language.
“Just remember if it’s a voice-based task, pass it to someone else, and only handle what you’re confident in. Just one hour—just one hour, I swear!”
Clasping his hands together, he begged with exaggerated fervor.
“This favorite of yours will repay you a hundredfold!”
Heeju scratched her neck. She was unimpressed by his theatrics. Sensing her reluctance, Han Joon doubled down on flattery.
“I’ve been attending workshops at the National Institute of the Korean Language lately. We’ve been having heated debates about how to interpret lyrics by Kariba, that American singer. The lyrics are… a bit…”
Fatigue briefly clouded his face.
‘The songs were all so provocative…’
When Heeju stared at him, he waved a hand dismissively.
“Not something to discuss in front of a kid like you.”
‘I’m not a kid.’
“Sure, sure,” he said, tapping her on the crown of her head.
“Anyway, there’s a concert soon, and they want sign language interpreters. I was planning to recommend you since you’re fluent in English and perfect for interpreting the artist’s speeches.”
At his words, Heeju suddenly remembered Baek Sa-eon’s suggestion. An interpreter assigned to the Blue House, he had said.
She licked her lips without realizing it.
“So please, just this once! One hour!”
Before she could respond, Han Joon dashed away. Left with no choice, Heeju greeted her colleagues and reluctantly put on a headset.
‘He’s been around since I was nine.’
Han Joon had been a lively, playful twenty-something when she first met him. Over time, they had developed an unspoken camaraderie, while her marriage to Baek Sa-eon remained as good as nothing.
“Ugh…”
The memory of Baek Sa-eon’s hand gripping her thigh suddenly resurfaced, making her instinctively stiffen.
Why am I even thinking about him?
She slapped her cheeks and refocused.
Soon, the phone started ringing.
Answering call after call, she efficiently relayed messages for everything from casual chats to inquiries with government offices and financial institutions. She was so engrossed in her work that time flew by unnoticed.
As she stretched her arms, a video call suddenly came through.
‘A video call? Sure.’
This would involve sign language through a live video feed. Heeju confidently clicked the call button.
And then—
“Wow…”
The screen filled with a bright, endless sky, so clear it looked surreal.
The video wobbled slightly before the caller’s face appeared. It was a man with tousled curls swaying in the breeze.
“Hello…”
Heeju’s hands froze mid-sign as her spine went rigid.
A wide grin stretched across the man’s face, making his face appear unnatural.
“Hey, sis. How’ve you been?”
“…!”
The face was both unfamiliar and disturbingly familiar. Heeju felt nauseated seeing his face from a closeup.
“Ahh…”
Her attempt to scream came out as a stifled gasp.
“Long time no see!”
“…!”
“Oh, right.. How’s my phone? Are you still using it?”
A wave of shock washed over her, leaving her hands shaking uncontrollably.
Why was he here? How? Hadn’t he disappeared after failing that day?
“I know this place. The Call Relay Center. Can you help me make a call?”
“…”
“I’ve got someone I want to call too—your husband. Baek Sa-eon. Can you connect me? Baek Sa-eon. That b*stard, Baek Sa-eeooon!”
“…!”
The haunting memory of rain pelting her face crashed over her like phantom pain. Her chest tightened, and her breathing grew ragged.
“You helped me before, didn’t you? You spoke up for me. Huh? Why aren’t you making calls? Why, why, why—?”
He slammed his phone against his forehead, making the screen shake violently.
“I’m on your side, sis!”
Heeju’s face turned deathly pale. Her desperate fingers fumbled for the power button beneath the desk.
“I even set a fire for you. Did a good job, right?”
Heeju froze in horror.
“Didn’t I do well? Tell me?”
He smiled, seeking praise, but the sinister glint in his eyes was unmistakable.
“People… got hurt…”
For the first time, Heeju spoke without caring who might hear. Her voice, hoarse and cracking, barely escaped her lips.
“It would’ve been better if everyone had just died.”
The filthy, erratic tone from before had vanished entirely.
With the clear blue sky behind him, the man’s smile almost seemed innocent.
“How dare that b*stard ignore my calls through you, huh?”
Wasn’t the phone she picked up that day supposed to help her? Wasn’t it supposed to be the object that rescued her from this suffocating existence?
“Sis, keep calling him. Keep doing it.”
What was it she had picked up that day…?
“You’re going to keep being my voice.”
Is it even near what she had imagined?
“You’ll be my messenger.”
A strange sense of despair crashed down on Heeju.
“Just like how you want to hear someone say the word ‘divorce,’ I want to hear something too.”
The man swayed in and out of the camera frame, like a child on a swing.
“There are words I’ve been dying to hear.”
He displayed a wide smile.
“Keep using that phone, sis. Until you manage that divorce. I mean, I’ve got to pay for borrowing your voice, right? If Baek Sa-eon loses everything, that works for me. But in return…”
The screen swayed back and forth, disorienting her like a pendulum.
“Make sure you receive the words I want to hear.”
At first, his demand seemed incomprehensible. But she sensed something ominous.
There was something terrifyingly wrong about his seemingly innocent request. A wave of raw emotion washed over her, her fists clenched tightly, a silent testament to her helplessness.
Then, as if waking from a trance, Heeju suddenly got up from her chair.
“Wait, is that…?”
Her voice trembled as it escaped her throat.
“W- Where are you right now?”
At her question, the man brushed his fingers over the camera lens.
The previously clear screen suddenly turned red. The vivid, metallic scent of blood seemed to permeate even through the screen.
“…!”
Spreading his hand wide, he smiled like a morning glory in full bloom. While his palm was completely soaked in bright crimson blood.
“You understand, right, sis? Once you start, you have to see it through to the end.”
Heeju ripped off her headset and bolted out of the room like a madman.
Her coworkers in the communication center glanced at her briefly, but their attention soon waned.
Just then, Director Han Joon returned from his errands.
“H- Heeju! Huh? Hey! Where are you going?” he shouted after her, but she didn’t turn back.
Something was terribly, irreparably wrong.
The kidnapper’s last words echoed in her mind like nails being hammered in.
“Otherwise, you will lose everything.”
***
“Agh… Ugh…”
Even outside, Heeju could hear her father’s groans.
She pushed her way through the crowd of people to where her father was surrounded by police. The first thing that caught her eye was the bright red sheet.
The caregiver, who recognized her, was pacing nervously.
“I… I had to call the police…”
Blood stains on her father’s lips, neck, and hospital gown stood out starkly, almost like smears of red paint.
Heeju’s knees gave up, and she nearly collapsed on the spot.
