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her?” Trying another angle, I dug a little deeper. “Was he unhappy with his marriage, or was he cheating on her with someone else?”
     
    “Hyun-ah wasn’t seeing anyone else.”
     
    “You say that like you know, but you said the two of you didn’t socialize.”
     
    “We talked, sometimes.” There was a tiny verbal step toward me, just enough to reach for something else. Jae placed a large pot in the sink, filling it halfway with water before putting it on the stove. The gas ignited under it, and he began to chop up stalky green vegetables that I couldn’t identify if my life depended on it. “There was only Victoria and their son, Will.”
     
    “Will?” That seemed out of place with the rest of the family’s traditions, despite Grace’s dismissal of her given name. “Odd choice.”
     
    “He has a Korean middle name. Chang-shik.” He had to brush past me to get to a cabinet, and my body sang from the casual, warm contact. If I stayed around Jae-Min much longer, I was going to have to take a very cold shower when I got home. Or pray for a thunderstorm to hit me when I got outside. My notes were lying open, and he stopped, looking at my block lettering. Taking the pen from my hand, he crossed out something I’d written, correcting it underneath. “It’s Jae-Min Kim, or just Jae. With an E. Not a Y.”
     
    “I promise I would have clarified spelling before I wrote my report.”
     
    “You’re writing a report?” He frowned, returning to nibble on his lip. “Who for? Vicki?”
     
    “No, Mr. Kim. Technically I’m working for my brother, Mike, but it’s at your uncle’s request. I file a report for every case. Sometimes even two or three, depending on how extensive of an investigation it is.”
     
    “This should be short then, right?” The greens waited while he added some brown flakes to the water and a fishy aroma filled the kitchen. It wasn’t unpleasant, a whiff of sea and meat around the stove. “How much more is there to find out?”
     
    “I don’t know.” Leaning my elbows against the counter, I watched his face, wondering why his eyes were dull and shut down as he stirred the broth. “What did Mrs. Kim say to you?” It was bold to ask, and I knew it. “What did she say that hurt you?”
     
    “She said that I should be the one who died in that place. That Hyun-Shik should be here instead of me.” The flatness in his voice never wavered. It was as if he were discussing something mildly unpleasant, like someone crossing the street against the light or finding a dead bug on his windshield. “Auntie thinks that I deserved that kind of death, not her son.”
     
    “Why would she say something like that?” I wanted to reach out to touch his stiff shoulders, but I’d been scratched before, by more feral things than a pretty-faced, young Korean man. “Yeah, Hyun-Shik made a choice, however fucked-up it might be. You had nothing to do with it. Did you?”
     
    “No.” His black hair gleamed under the soft lights in the kitchen, and he turned to grab handfuls of the chopped leaves, adding them slowly to the simmering liquid. “I had nothing to do with Hyun-Shik’s death.”
     
    “Then why say something that hateful? Or is that a Korean thing too?”
     
    “No, she’ll either apologize or we’ll pretend as if nothing was said. That’s how we deal with uncomfortable things that happen.” More vegetables were pulled from paper bags, and an onion lay in line for execution under his sharp knife. “She said that because Hyun-Shik shouldn’t have died in a gay club. It’s one thing to kill himself, but to shame the family that way is too much.”
     
    “And she thinks it would be okay for you to die there?” My opinion of Mrs. Kim was falling lower and lower as Jae minced a clove of garlic on the chopping board.
     
    “Yes, because in her mind, my family has little to lose.” The bits of garlic joined the vegetables in the pot. “She’s one of the few family members