“Uh,” says Seokga, attempting to convey a message to Hajun with only his eyes. Go. Run. If Dr. Jang catches a glimpse of the baby with eyes suspiciously similar to Hwanin’s, the gig is most decidedly up. The therapist will—as she’s sworn to do—contact Okhwang in case of emergencies pertaining to Seokga, and this would undoubtedly count as an emergency. Hajun, to his credit, picks up the hidden plea and hurries away with Hwanin. Ignoring the annoying stab of anxiety at having his brother out of his sight, Seokga attempts a casual smile that does not at all seem to fool the good doctor. “I forgot about our scheduled session,” he says. That much is true. That Dr. Jang had demanded a session in the morning after the disaster in the greenhouse had been completely forgotten by him.

Dr. Jang sighs, pushing up her sunglasses. “Well, let’s go, then,” she grumps, and—with one hand on the wall—makes her way back down the stairs. Seokga notes that she’s being extremely cautious with her movements, feeling the wall or railing before she takes each step, and feels a spasm of guilt. Dr. Jang is an old woman, and running about the ship looking for him couldn’t have been good for her bones—which she, on the way down to Jeoseung, complained of being incredibly arthritic. Seokga’s guilt fades as he sits in the plush armchair across from hers in her cabin and watches as she pulls out a notebook. He wonders if he should mention she’s still wearing her sunglasses, but decides against it. They match her neon Hawaiian shirt in a way that’s most amusing.

“So,” says Dr. Jang Heejin.

“So,” echoes Seokga, crossing one leg over the other, determined to look as casual as possible. Nothing to see here. No murders, no baby-older-brothers.

“The greenhouse mess,” prompts Dr. Jang, and Seokga almost snorts. With everything going on, his little tussle with Somi last night is the least of his concerns. “You were upset.”