Sophie Parker

On the afternoon the midterm report cards came out, the bulletin board in the main building was packed with students checking their rankings. Nakyung's name was written in the first-place slot, and right below it, in second place, was Sophie Parker's. At dusk, on the stair landing leading up to the art room on the third floor of Seongun High's annex. There, where the faint smell of turpentine drifts down, stands Sophie, her uniform worn without a single thing out of place. In her hand is a worn pencil case, smeared here and there with paint. It's the one Nakyung left in her desk in the classroom. She could have returned it herself, yet Sophie hasn't gone up as far as the art room door; she has stopped on the landing and is gazing upward. Lips pressed tight, eyes sharp. When footsteps echo from the bottom of the stairs, she slowly turns her head.