Lie Detector

(A/n: The next book goes up in about an hour. So don't worry, I won't leave you in suspense for long!)

(EDIT: it's up!!!)

The next few weeks are remarkably calm, as everything cools down and Junghoon makes an actual effort to befriend us, his attitude mellowing the more he accepts that we're not out to hurt him. I'm still secretly suspicious of his motives, as there are times when he lies quite massively, which worries me quite a bit, but I'm not going to say anything until it's necessary.

I don't want anyone to start a fight again. I'm just tired of it, now.

He's constantly lying about his studies, saying that he had to go to some sort of class when in reality the class he's referring to doesn't exist. It's often used as an excuse to leave, and mainly timed by a glance at a phone. It's confusing, of course it is, and it's worrying, but like I said, I can't do anything to stop him.

As far as everyone else is concerned, there's nothing wrong. Everything is getting better.

But I'm not so sure, as everything that happens within my family at the end of this  few weeks tears apart whatever faith I had in humanity.

My mother gives birth to a healthy baby girl, one that seems completely normal and physically unbothered by whatever they did to her older siblings. Taewa and I go with her to the hospital on that special day, hyper and excited by the thought of a little sister. Taeseok and my father are both at work, but they're a phone call away if anything happens. They're just as excited as we are.

But our joy doesn't last for long.

Taewa is allowed into the room with our mother whilst she's giving birth, whilst I wait outside, nervously playing on my phone and texting my friends, who continuously try to tell me that it'll all be fine. The moment my little sister is fully born, maybe three or four hours later, I'm informed by a nurse, and I rush in to see how both mother and baby are. I heard the familiar sound of a crying baby earlier, so I know she's alive.

My mother is beaming, clearly exhausted but rightfully proud of herself, and the sleeping infant is curled up in her arms, oblivious to the fact that she's finally here. She's finally alive. And she's beautiful.

Cute chubby cheeks, tiny hands, a soft body that's now cleaned of any unpleasant bodily fluids (because labour is messy), the smallest pair of feet I've ever seen. There's an minute wisp on her little head, and her eyes are peacefully closed. Of course, it must be tiring being born.

I don't remember, so I wouldn't know.

We stay in the hospital for a few hours whilst the normal checks are carried out, and everything seems perfectly fine. My father and older brother arrive at the hospital not long after everything calms down, and they're similarly enchanted by the new member of the family, congratulating my mother for her hard work.

Without any warning, however, an official bursts into the room, maybe four hours after my mother has given birth, carrying a clipboard and a pen, and my heart drops.

"Mr and Mrs Kim, I am part of the Government Protection Branch, and I am here to move your new child to a safer location. We believe that your current situation means that your child will not be secure, and so this is a measure we will take to protect her from those who would cause your family harm," he explains, his tone matter of fact and his face completely indifferent.

My mother glances over at me, a clear question in her eyes, and I nod shamefully, the backs of my eyes beginning to warm up with tears. She sighs, looking down at her new daughter. "She's been alive for four hours," she says desperately, "she hasn't had a chance to meet any of her family yet. How is that fair?"