Seokga’s shoulders stiffen. “The Mad God is my father, whether I like it or not. Is it so unusual to discuss one’s father in therapy? Dr. Jang has been treating me for thirty-three years. If she had some resentment against Hwanin, or me, she had ample time to strike. We’re not looking into her. That’s final, Kisa.”

There is, she thinks, a strange edge of desperation in Seokga’s voice that she cannot help but latch onto out of concern and curiosity. As his chest rises and falls unevenly, Kisa wonders at his clear attachment to the therapist—his inability to even entertain the thought of her as a suspect. How alone has he been these past three decades? Surely he’s made other friends since Hani’s death.

But can he speak to them as openly as he speaks to Dr. Jang? Mago, his mother, has been asleep for thousands of years. His relationship with Hwanin—pre-murder—seemed precarious at best. And then there’s his father. Evil and imprisoned. With nobody else to turn to, the trickster god is dependent on Dr. Jang.

Kisa wonders if such a dependency is really as harmless as Seokga believes. Thirty-three years is a long time for a con, after all, but something about their session has left a bad taste in Kisa’s mouth. As has Seokga’s tone. “Don’t speak to me like that,” she snaps, prickling, and the god looks momentarily taken aback.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m—like I’m a position lower than you in this investigation.” Kisa narrows her eyes at him over the top of Hwanin’s head. “If I want to look into Dr. Jang, I will. I’ve just as much riding on this mystery as you do, and I won’t miss my chance for reincarnation because you decided something was ‘final.’ We barely have any other leads to go on at the moment anyway—”

Seokga rakes a hand through his hair. He’s still shirtless, and Kisa concentrates exceptionally hard on staring at his face rather than his cut muscles. His jaw works for a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he says in a slow, controlled voice, “and I’m sorry. But I don’t think it’s a worthy expense of our time and energy to look into Dr. Jang. I once made the mistake of suspecting Dok-hyun—someone who was only trying to help me—and I got him killed. I won’t do that to her. Can you understand that?”

“I can…if you can understand why I need to check all possible boxes. We can split up,” Kisa adds, although there’s an ever-growing gnaw of disappointment in her stomach. “You don’t need to come with me, or involve yourself at all in this.”

“I won’t.” Seokga’s jaw clenches.