“I didn’t know you had such good reflexes!” Jihyun excitedly retells the story. “Even though you fell down the stairs with your arms tied behind the back, your neck is fine, and there isn’t much injury. It’s almost as though somebody caught you at the bottom of the stairs. It’s extraordinary. Perhaps you should be showcased on TV. Yuri Geller the illusionist is not half as intriguing as your miracle!. Only one of your arms is broken, and a tendon in the leg is torn, which is no biggie.” He suggests that I think of this miracle as a born-again type of fresh start that has been gifted to me. When will he stop talking? I’m bored, like I’m listening to some infomercial about a product I don’t care about. But he continues rattling on. “The people in the billiard parlor all ran out to check out the commotion, and Eunyong called the café owner’s place, but she wasn’t there—she was out getting her hair permed—so my friend, her now-husband, answered and he called me. I rushed over, covered you with a blanket, took you to the hospital, and that brings us here.” He laughs. “You were speaking gibberish on my back, so loudly too. I couldn’t believe you actually were unconscious.”

“Why is that so funny?” I pointedly ask him and his laughter fades. My face feels hot. Did I look funny being naked and unconscious? I hadn’t bathed for a few days. How embarrassing. I want to ask about the monster, but I can’t bring myself to talk about him, so instead I try moving my leg, and notice that my toenails are dirty. Ugh, so embarrassing. The hospital staff lady comes in with a tray of food, and Jihyun gets up to leave. He blows me a kiss, promising to stop by again that night. He’s so annoying.

* * *

“What’s your parents’ phone number?” Eunyong insists on telling my father what happened. She looks worried.