I knocked softly on our guest room door. I waited until I heard a quiet "come in" and then pushed the door open.

Mirae was sitting on the bed, legs crossed underneath her. She was absentmindedly petting the small, brown fluffball in her lap. She and my dog had already fallen head over heels for each other. And other than enthusiastically greeting me as though he hadn't seen me in years when we got home, they'd become inseparable.

I smiled at the sight of them, but then noticed that she was looking at her phone, frowning.

"You okay?" I asked gently.

She shook her head. "My mom turned off service to my phone. I can't make any calls or text anyone."

A sudden shockwave of anger flashed through my whole body, but I kept my voice calm. "Do you need to call or text anyone? If so, you can use my phone."

"Thank you," she said, sadness evident in her voice. "I need to call the boys and tell them what happened. They're going to panic when they can't get ahold of me."

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket. "Keep it as long as you need."

She hesitantly took it out of my hands. I could tell something else was bothering her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked up at me. "About what?"

"Whatever else is on your mind."

She sighed as she stared at my phone. "It's just that...this is really it." Her voice quavered. "She has no way to get ahold of me now. She won't know where I am. She really..." A tear rolled down her cheek. "She really meant it. She never wants to see me again."

The tears came quickly then, rolling silently down her cheeks. She looked up at me. "How could a mother hate her child like that?"

My heart dropped, and I tried to keep my voice calm as tears started stinging my eyes on her behalf. "I don't know," I whispered honestly. A sudden thought entered my mind. I hadn't wanted to broach the topic before because I didn't want to invade her privacy, but with this new information about her phone, it felt necessary to ask.

"Mirae," I spoke quietly. "What about your dad? Does he live somewhere else? Can he help?"

Her face fell as she met my eyes. She shook her head. "Dad died when I was twelve."

My heart dropped even further. "I'm so sorry," I said earnestly.

She took a shaky breath. "It's okay. It's been five years now. It gets easier with time."

"No, it doesn't," I said. "And that's okay."

She looked startled. "I..." She dropped her head again in defeat. "You're right. I miss him. I think about him literally every single day. When you were..." She paused, unsure if she should continue.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "Say what's on your mind."

She swallowed thickly. "When you were in the hospital, I kept thinking about how I couldn't bear to bury another person I love."

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I had accused her of having an axe to grind with her friends, and so I thought that made her selfish in her determination to be my friend. But it was me who was selfish. I had an axe to grind within myself. I either couldn't or wouldn't (or maybe both) face it, so I took it out on her.

I was now kicking myself internally as the realization set in that if I'd just been a modicum nicer to her, I might have learned all of this information about her dad and her life at home. And I could have been able to be a better person to her. A better person for her.

I took her hand and sat quietly as I held it. I had something I wanted to say, but I could tell she had more she wanted to say.

"I know what you're thinking," she suddenly said quietly and I raised my eyebrows. She laughed slightly. "You always seem so shocked when I 'read your mind'. I'm just a lot more perceptive than you've ever given me credit for."

I stared at her. "Then what am I thinking, Miss Perceptive?" My tone was teasing.

"You're blaming yourself. For what exactly, I'm not entirely sure. Probably a lot of things. But you're thinking you were selfish. Again, probably for a lot of things," she repeated. "But you need to know that your suicide attempt, at least, wasn't selfish."

I looked down. "But – "

"Yoongles," she said firmly. "Trying to escape the pain and hopelessness within yourself is not selfish. It's understandable, at least for people like us. And after something like this, people always say you should have thought about those around you and those you love. I probably contributed to some of that when I yelled at you after you woke up, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said instantly. "I needed to hear it."

"But that's just it, Yoongles. That shouldn't have been the first thing you heard from the first person you saw that cares for you. You should have heard relief and gratefulness and kindness. I was angry because of what I went through, and I didn't stop to think about you and what you went through. That was selfish of me, because this was never about me. And I'm so sorry."

I shook my head fervently, but upon doing so, she still wouldn't let me speak. "You wanted to die not because you wanted those who love you to suffer, but because you yourself couldn't bear to suffer any longer."

"I..."

"I understand. I've been there, too. I dealt with it in different ways, but I still had to deal with thoughts like that." She smiled a soft, knowing smile. "It's okay, Yoongles. It doesn't matter how you dealt with it. You succumbed to those thoughts, but that doesn't make you selfish. So don't ever let anyone make you feel that way. Okay?"

I stared at her. "Can I kiss you?"

She blinked. "W-what?"

"No!" I closed my eyes and shook my head. "That's not... This is so not the ri – I... I don't know. Forget I said anything."

She giggled. I opened my eyes and smiled. Her laugh sounded like music.

"You can kiss me whenever you want, Yoongles," she said shyly. "But wait until you're ready."

"Okay," I said softly. She smiled.

"What would your mom and dad think about six random guys coming over for a few hours?" she asked.

"I think they'll be okay with it as long as you ask," I replied. "They already like you more than me." I grinned at her.

"Well damn, Yoongles, I can't argue with that stupid beautiful smile," she laughed. "Come with me, though?"

I chuckled. "Of course!"

"Sorry, Holly," she said, picking up the dog and setting him on the bed as we stood.

Before we left the room, however, I paused at the door. When I turned around, she had a quizzical look on her face. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"It's just...do they all hate me?" I asked timidly. "I know I kinda got in their good graces once. But I've put you through a lot since then and – "

"I'll be honest, some of them are pretty upset with you," she said. "But they trust me and if I tell them to trust you, they will."

"Even Taehyung?" I asked, unsure.

She rolled her eyes, and I somehow knew that it was directed toward him and not me. "Tae can suck it up. And he will, for my sake; especially once he knows how well you're taking care of me."

I still felt unconvinced, and she seemed to sense this.

"Hobi and Jiminie already like you, so that's your foot in the door. Kookie and Jin won't be hard to convince. Tae and Joon...I'll probably have to have a serious conversation with them, but they'll come around eventually. None of them ever really got a chance to know you, and once they do, they'll start to accept you because they like you. It won't be about me eventually. I honestly, truly believe that you'll fit in with everyone once they get to know you better." She smiled reassuringly and I instantly felt better.

"Mom is likely in the living room or kitchen," I said. "Let's go find her."

She nodded, and then, as I began to lead her down the hall, she suddenly reached forward, took my hand in hers and interlaced our fingers together. I was momentarily stunned, but went with it. Because her fingers between mine just felt right.