The Crown | myg

forty-two

I take a moment to compose myself. I can't leave Daehyun and the others alone for so long that they decide to leave and accept the fact that I've died. The one thing I refuse to see is them giving up because of my death. I just hope that Daehyun can carry it out long enough for me to think of something.

As I think, I slowly make my way through the treeline to my right. With each step I take, I try to avoid stepping on any branches or twigs that could alert the enemy of my whereabouts.

With each careful step I take, I think more about the best approach to the situation. How can I, someone who is supposed to be dead – a mob boss – come out of nowhere to take out another mob? How can I surprise them after just faking my own death? Can Daehyun even hold up the act long enough for me to think through what I'm about to do? Can he even make it believable?

With millions of thoughts racing through my head, I continue to walk through the woods, my eyes focused on my footsteps and the sounds I'm making. If there's one thing I've learned in my many years in the mob, it's that silence is key. Stealth is the one advantage you always have over your opponent.

"Please, she can't be dead," I hear a familiar voice plead from close by. I stop looking down at my feet and look to my right, to where the sound initially came from. As I see how close I am, I quickly, yet quietly, slip behind the large trunk of a nearby tree.

"Please, tell me she isn't dead," the same voice chimes. I stand about twenty feet away from the people I know and love, as well as the group of people that threw us off the road.

I take a closer look into the group, squinting through the darkness to see where each person stands, who is saying what, if any of them are crying over my death. To my unfortunate surprise, the moonlight over the dark night and the lack of street lights isn't enough to show me who is where and doing what. The headlights from the mystery vehicle aren't helping much either.

"Daehyun," the voice pleads once more, his hands gripping to the shirt of Daehyun, who is on his knees, his head hanging low as he grips my blood-covered earrings in his hands. "Please, tell me she isn't dead."

Another character walks over to him and places his hands on his shoulders as a form of comfort. From the height and bulk of the third party, I can only pinpoint it as Kimoon. His large stature could be recognized easily from a mile away.

My eyes shift a little and I take a deep breath as I realize who is crying and pleading that my death is just a hoax.

It's...