The smell of incense was strong, so strong that it was nauseating. There was a gloom in the night that wafted not only among the black formal attires but also in the faces of those present. The smell of incense burning to ashes, sacrificing its existence to appease living and dead souls, failed to conceal the stench of loss, of death.

You were not a fan of such gatherings, just as you were not a fan of gatherings of any kind. You always found them superficial, the way people mingled and gave unsolicited opinions about things they weren't really allowed to criticize. They lacked sincerity, you always thought, and you weren't one for fake pleasantries.

You weren't used to that kind of fake grin and pitying chit-chat. You were used to a form of affection that was raw and unaffected, expressed in simple words that often brought solace to hearts as orphaned as yours, hearts that had learned to let a wound heal itself without applying balm so when it materialized in their hands, they appreciated it.

Jungkook had left your bed to the cold weather that night, counting on the sofa to cope better with his stirrings, not to complain or be disturbed. But just as sleep refused to come to the rendezvous with him, it had also betrayed your promise of encounter, leaving you with endless thoughts of a very vague and simply unknown tomorrow.

That morning was just as quiet as the night that preceded, except for the few greetings smothered in monotone words. You had never seen Jungkook in this state before, which made you doubt your analytical abilities. The thought didn't just occur to you when you saw how disheveled but, at the same time, well-dressed he looked in his black suit, in fact, you had made that doubt known when he had told you about his sister the night before.

Loud and clear.

"After all these years, it's only now that the thought of telling your wife about something this big crossed your mind?"

"Some things are better left unknown, Cass. The right time just hadn't come yet."

"Oh, yeah? And now it did? Finally! Jungkook," There was a desperation in the way you called his name, he sensed it too, which is why he waylaid the callous behavior and decided to grace you with his gaze that had been buried in his plate. "Do you trust me at all?"

"We all have secrets that are better left in the dark." And there was a hint of danger in his voice, you sensed it and hoped the words were just that: Words. "Don't you have some of your own too?"

And your guess was right. It came to what you were scared of, which was why you had decided to drop the subject, afraid it would backfire on you, scared the hidden bodies would run out of the closet.

You promised not to leave the threshold of your house without knotting his tie, just like you always did before he left for work. It was a simple gesture through which you showed that you cared about him, a simple gesture through which you showed him your love that you weren't eloquent enough to express. You would usually fix it and wrap it up with a kiss wishing him a good day, but you knew that today was not a good day, just as you knew that no kiss would halt the earthquake that was shaking the footing of your foundation.

The hum of the tires rubbing across the asphalt became the music that the car was missing. The silence was like a cloud that covered the blue sky and, together with your somber attires, gave the impression that the car was driving through the other side of the river. Jungkook's expression was solemn, hand tightly gripping the steering wheel, hinting at a concentration you knew was lacking. His jaw tightened even more as he turned right toward his family's residence, and when the car stopped, he heaved a deep sigh.

"Pay no attention to my mom; let's not ruin this day for my sister's sake." He demanded.

You didn't intend to give the time of your day to his mother, nor did you care about anyone else's remarks, for you were there for him and him only. You thought about it all night and came to the conclusion that the fact that he decided to tell you something of this caliber after all this time meant that he needed to share his burden, and you were willing to alleviate him of the weight, even if it meant slumping your shoulders with it.

Jungkook's mother was not a supporter of your marriage; made that clear from the beginning and stated her reasons, which actually made you admire the woman for her honesty and lack of hypocrisy. Jungkook's family was deep-rooted, ancestors that held a name laced with pride, full of judges and prosecutors turned politicians, while your upbringing was unknown even to yourself, having gotten your last name gifted by an orphanage director. So you understood the rejection, had expected it ever since he opened the marriage topic with you for the first time, nothing shockworthy.

His father had tried to change his mind, tried to tie him to an arranged marriage with the daughter of one of his friends, but Jungkook had always been the stallion that no one could tame. He had made up his mind, and on your finger, he slid the ring against all the odds, as he had promised.

Despite your questionable upbringing, you were not one to disrespect elders no matter how far they would push it, and Jungkook's love for you grew because of this, so he saw a goal in protecting you from the harshness of an unforgiving society, which is why he kept you, most of the time, away from the toxicity of his household.

You let your eyes wander, trying to pick up details you might have missed in previous visits, pictures, or anything of the sort that might indicate the existence of the person you have neither met nor will ever have the pleasure of meeting. The person, your husband, mourned in secrecy in the darkness of your room while you slept comfortably. The house was the same as when you last visited, elegant and respectable, like the owners, and there was no sign of a sister, even now that you were paying attention, making you question the reality of this situation altogether.

Silence refused to abandon the scene as you sat at the table, listening to the click of cutlery and the smacking of mouths. Few words were uttered when you entered the house, his mother being the first to address you and acknowledge your presence. The cold demeanor didn't bother you, but it wasn't what you expected on a day like this, you would admit.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Cassandra. I see Jungkook has finally understood that marriage also means sharing sadness and not just rosy moments." His mother greeted, trying to conceal the hidden sourpuss behind each word with a friendly tone, and you assumed it was for the sake of the situation.

"I'm sorry for your loss, mother."

You never thought of your marriage as an endless honeymoon phase; had you needed the kind of relationship that consisted of superficial feelings, you would have stuck to dating instead. Hearing her loudly conveying her thoughts about the bond between you and her son stung you more than you expected.

You didn't blame her; no, you couldn't, for she wasn't the one to be blamed, it was your husband's decision to break the vow he made to God and his pastor when he refused to share his sadness with you, but you failed to blame him as well when you remembered the many secrets you didn't share with him.

You didn't blame him, but you wouldn't hide your resentment, your disappointment.

You couldn't understand the reason behind his deed no matter how much you thought about it; you had asked him, had tried to keep your sensitivity when you asked about his loss and how she left the world, but to your questions, you received a cold shoulder. That led you to contact the only person in this world who never hid anything from you. It was late at night when you had made sure that Jungkook was fast asleep on the couch in the living room, that you mustered up the courage to contact the Shadow. Your burner phone's battery was only five percent, but you were glad when the message appeared to be read before the phone's battery died.

"Jungkook had a sister. I want you to gather all the information you can find about her. Send me a report asap."

Jungkook's father ultimately decided to dispel the silence, putting down his fork and glancing at the table before calling attention to himself: "Let's thank the Almighty for this table, our health, and all the blessings."

Jungkook's father was Catholic, while his mother was Buddhist. Jungkook did not follow either of his parents, he, in fact, had chosen to be a non-believer, or as he often said, a believer in truth.

Truth for Jungkook was anything that was tangible, stories proven with facts, and nothing beyond that mattered. You found yourself with time, understanding, and borderline sharing his idealogy; the man was a man of law, a man who made decisions that could turn other people's lives upside down based on what his eyes saw, not what his ears heard, and frankly, in modern life, the concept was quite compelling.

Regardless of your faith, everyone complied with the elder's instructions, each person turned to the God they believed in, each person prayed for what they needed, and let the place drown in another wave of silence.

"Amen," your mother-in-law concluded, "Yoon-Hui is waiting; it is time."

Yoon-Hui?

The people at the table hurriedly left their plates and all headed toward the old temple that the lady of the house had built. Jungkook's house was a mixture of modern and traditional architecture. The Hanok style was predominant, although the furniture was more of an Eastern choice, and you figured, as you walked behind your husband and his family, that your father-in-law had the final say in the decor.

Heartbeats increased as silence overshadowed the endless walk, and before you could reach the temple you had visited only once after your marriage to bow in gratitude and pray for your husband's long life, your mother-in-law halted the momentum and addressed her words to her son without a glance at your form, "think about it on a better light before we cross the line of no return, son. This is a family matter that better remains among family."

Jungkook sighed, and before he could give a response that may or may not be in your defense, he brought his palm up to his face and covered it before another sigh escaped through his mouth, "And she deserves to be here for she is family, mother. My family."

You weren't sure what to make of his words, but you sure felt guilt. Jungkook always thought of you as part of him, a part of his history, past, and future, while you always made sure that your past and much of your present remained hidden. Secret. The anger this situation caused in you made you think about running away from the whole thing, hell, even running away from him and breaking free into a world where you existed with your sins alone, but then, you looked into his eyes and the adoration and gentleness that managed to show between the creases of his eyebrows despite the sadness made you wish you could wash away his past and rewrite destiny.

The walk resumed, and with it, your hammering heart. Your hesitant steps brought you inside the temple, and before you could make it to the bows, your mother-in-law stopped a few steps past the entrance. Jungkook and his father reached what seemed to you to be an altar while your vision remained obscured by your mother-in-law. The smell of incense filled the place after your father-in-law let his lighter burn the stick, and after three bows, which he concluded with a prayer, your husband was next to pollute your lungs with another stick of incense he lit.

His mother's gasp broke your heart even though it was so cold, and you found yourself fighting against tears that threatened to fall out of compassion that was reserved for your husband and him only. Jungkook deserved no sadness, for he brought you happiness from the land of impossibility and promised you a tomorrow different from your yesterday, a tomorrow in which you would never be alone, for he would fill the void, become the caring parent, and loving friend before he could be the husband.

At Jungkook's third bow to a picture you couldn't see, your burner phone buzzed in your clutch, collecting your attention from a situation far away from your imagination, and before you could get lost in the secrecy that life forced upon you, Jungkook stood up and his father moved away to clear the sight he had previously blocked while standing behind his son, who paid his respects to the deceased and gave you a view of a picture you never thought you would see in the premises of this house.

Bella?

The phone buzzed again, and your wide eyes remained fixed on your husband's back and the image in front of him that finally became visible to you while you ignored the world and its judgment and let the tear that flowed from your eye accompany your hand that reached for the device, itching to confirm your doubts.

Find a way to leave the place, Cassandra!

*media file*

Your husband's sister is Bella. Our Bella. Find a way and escape from there ASAP. This must be a trap.

*media file*

Cass, please tell me you're okay. Please leave the place before it's too late. I know it's hard, but you need to hide your feelings and run away from there.

Run, Cass.