“I used to live in that house next to yours,” he said. “And then I lived in this very house. It looked less fancy back then though, it must be said.”

“I know someone living here now.”

“You’re friendly with the Singhs? Dr. Singh, with that holier-than-thou look of his? My dad had to sell and Dr. Singh bought. I guess that’s capitalism.”

Rosemary shut her eyes, her doubts confirmed. He walked over to her, and she felt her skin prickle. Somebody nearby was playing Christmas music—pa-rum-pum pum-pum. The snare-drum backbeat to “The Little Drummer Boy” always gave her the chills.

“I came back to say my goodbyes,” he said. “It’s become obvious a girl and I were not meant to be.”

“I’m here to say my goodbyes, too.” Quietly, she started walking away.

“Hey!”

Goosebumps coursed up her arms, but she continued to walk. The man quickened his pace after her. She could hear his breathing close behind. Then he grabbed her with his gloved hands—which felt inevitable. And fierce. And a relief.

He spun her around and saw the tears cascading down her cheeks, soaking her hair. She was trembling. He brushed the wet strands from her skin.

“Kill me . . .” The words slipped out of her mouth in a hiss.

The man smiled gravely. “What a thing to say.”

“Please . . . I mean it.”

“Come here.” She was already as close to him as two people could possibly be. He put his arm around her lower back. “I told you I came to say goodbye.”

Mrs. Park was tired of waiting. Four times she had yelled for the girls to come to dinner. The pizza was cold. Large Domino’s loaded with pepperoni and extra cheese. But this was Christmas Eve—she’d even let them have ice cream. By her second slice, Mrs. Park no longer worried about the food.

One last shot. “Rosie! Miraaaa!” She called Rosemary’s cell but it had been switched off and wasn’t accepting voicemail. She ran to Rosemary’s room. The door was locked. She tried Mira’s—also locked—and was overcome by a sickly sense of déjà vu. The hollow silence that was ringing in her ears was the same kind of silence, the same kind of deadened air she’d felt in the moment before she opened the door and found Kee Hyun hunched in that sea of red.