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As sunlight poured in through the small window, Hannah slept. She dreamed she was swinging in the hammock in Mrs. Stern’s garden. The sun enveloped her in its rays and warmed her all the way to the center of her being. The pain in her leg was gone; her stomach was full. The sweet, earthy scent of marigolds blended with the heady fragrance of jasmine. The roses were in bloom. From inside, she heard the murmured prayers of the other Secret Seminary students.
He came up behind her like a soft breeze and stroked her cheek with his finger. A sudden, delightful chill pricked at her neck, and the leaves rustled above them. She reached up and touched his hand, closed her eyes, and breathed in his smell. “Shouldn’t you be in there with the rest of them?” His voice was distant, muffled somehow. She couldn’t tell if his tone was accusatory or not.
She strained her ears. Inside the house, their comrades interceded with fervor for the leaders of North Korea, for refugees trying to escape, for believers in prison camps. “We better go inside,” she whispered. She made a move to get up, but her body was too heavy, the air itself weighing her down like layer after layer of quilts.
“Do we have to?” She heard the smile in his voice as he joined her in the hammock. Waves of heat danced up her back as he snuggled up behind her, curled up against her, wrapped his arms around her. The hammock swayed, but there was plenty of room for them to share. She had never been so close to him before, but it was familiar, like a cup of Mrs. Stern’s sweetened tea — just the right temperature, perfectly steeped.
His fingers glided slowly through her hair. Her head rested on the soft spot between his shoulder and bicep. “I want to stay here,” she confessed. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Me, either.” His lips brushed against her ear, the sensation of that first tender kiss shooting tendrils of ice and comfort that eventually settled down deep in her belly.
When Hannah woke up, her pillow was soaked in tears, and she shivered from the cold.
***
Simon’s body slumped to the floor. His limbs ached, but he knew his injuries paled in comparison to what Hannah endured during the past two weeks in Chongjin. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could smash his head against the concrete wall and end his miserable, pitiful existence. The mere thought of her threatened to steal away his last remnants of sanity. He remembered her eyes, always so trusting, so gentle. In the past, her tender gaze had been enough to encourage him, comfort him, embolden him. He wasn’t even sure he would have completed his training if she hadn’t stared at him so often with such frank admiration. Giving up hadn’t been an option. When she looked at him, she saw a saint. A hero.
Now she knew what he really was.
Shame pressed down on him like the lid on a coffin. How could he ever stand tall again? How could he continue on after failing the woman he loved? Yes, he loved her. He had always loved her. From that first night in Mrs. Stern’s garden, that first conversation they shared, his heart belonged to her. He tried to fight it, deceived himself into believing his emotions were under control. He had ignored his heart and tried to reason his affection away. He could never be with her. He had swallowed down his love, and now he found himself drowning in a tsunami of regrets and impossible yearnings.
He loved her. How easily he could admit it to himself now, when both their lives were forfeit. He loved her, and that’s why he couldn’t lift his head anymore. If he had been able to keep tighter control over his emotions, if he had followed through with his mission instead of charging after her like a gallant, errant fool, she would have never been caught. It was his fault she was captured, his love for her that put her through such unthinkable torment. And yet, if he had to make those choices again, he would only be fated to watch himself repeat the same offenses a hundred times over.
He loved her, and now that he acknowledged the truth, he knew he would never find a way to stop loving her. It was just as well God took her away. Such idols need to be exorcised entirely, plucked like weeds before they have a chance to grow and choke out all surrounding life. A love like theirs could never find fulfillment. A love like theirs could only end in tragedy.
He couldn’t tell if it was day or night when the two men forced their way into his dark cell and yanked off his ankle cuffs. He hadn’t eaten in days, refusing the cold gruel the guard passed under the slats of his cage. He didn’t care about food, didn’t care about relieving himself in his little tin pail, didn’t care that his skin was blistering with infection. When the two men lifted him to his feet, he felt no fear. They would kill him eventually. Why not today? Simon was nothing more than a stopwatch. With only a few ticks left on the second-hand, did it matter what happened before his time finally ran out?
He hated his legs for supporting his weight as he followed the guards down the hall. He had to stop thinking about Hannah and her twisted leg, the way she hobbled away from him. He had to stop thinking about the curve of her shoulders and the gentleness in her eyes. He had to stop thinking about the way she hugged him in the woods, the feel of her skin as they clasped hands in the dark. He shook his head, wishing to rattle the memories loose and be rid of them forever. His love for her was a weakness that had to be carved out of his heart permanently.
He was weeping by the time the men led him outside the Chongjin jail, but he didn’t notice the blinding light of the afternoon sun or the bitter wind stinging his cheeks. He didn’t notice the rough hands that shoved him into the van or the smell of old gasoline and exhaust. All he thought about was Hannah, the one he had vowed to exorcise from his heart, the one he could never stop thinking about no matter how hard he tried.
When the van started moving, Simon barely saw anything. He lost track of how long they had been driving and only remembered the sadness in Hannah’s eyes when he last saw her. A thousand reprimands shot from her gaze and pierced his soul like a torturer’s needle. He would welcome the interrogation chair if it could rip away that single memory.
Eventually, they arrived at a mass of barbed wire as tall as a man. A guard stationed at the gate waved them through, and Simon counted six more patrolmen stationed in watchtowers. The van passed through each of the security checkpoints without event. Simon straightened in his seat. Two men in drab gray prison uniforms slumped along, each laden with a large bucket that sloshed its contents onto their bare feet. Some young children gathered in a little huddle, picking up sticks. A pig in a sty behind them poked its nose around in the dirt. The animal was the only creature in sight that didn’t look like it was starving.
The van eventually stopped in front of a squat building. A sign flapped in the breeze: Administration. Simon thought about what comfort he could whisper to Hannah, and he had to remind himself yet again she was gone. It was like the loss of a limb. He might never fully get over his phantom urges to talk with her. He thought of their last night together in Yanji, lifetimes removed from interrogations and starvation and failed missions. “There are no good-byes in the kingdom of heaven,” she had breathed so confidently. If only they had known back then what awaited them.
The men prodded him out of the van with slow, lazy movements. They held him by both elbows, but he walked himself up to the administration building. He had failed the believers he was sent to serve. He had failed Hannah. Now he would pay for his mistakes, but at least he could still carry himself. He wouldn’t let them drag him to his fate like a coward. One of the guards swung the front door open, and he made sure to cross the threshold before anyone else.
A tired-looking man whose cap was several sizes too large glanced up from a thick file. Without ceremony, the guard passed him a sealed envelope. The clerk opened it with a yawn, and once he finished perusing it, he fixed his gaze on Simon.
“You are at Camp 22. You are prisoner number 39846.” The corner of his eye twitched. “You’re here until you die.”