The Double

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎-𝒮𝒾𝓍

I wander over to the fridge and open it to reveal a collection of condiments and no food. I don't want to eat, anyway; I'm only looking for a way to distract myself.

It's been three days since I saw Taehyung. Tre to her word to keep me informed, Anna sent me that photographer's photo from some stupid gossip rag, and the way it's framed makes Taehyung appear in full bodyguard hero mode protecting Duna. "Duna's hat looks familiar," Anna wrote.

It looks like I can be pulled back into being Duna even when I try to avoid it. I tuck my hands behind my head. What would a moral Suzy have done in the first place? She would have said no to Duna, even for the money. She would have squashed that little fame worm in her mind and told it we'd find our own way. Ben . . . I acted as best as I could have there, and I won't blame myself for his actions.

Then what does a moral and slightly more daring Suzy do now? I look at my laptop, where despite Anna's nagging, Eppy has sat neglected for most of the week. That Suzy follows her dreams and listens to her gut.

The phone rings and my heart leaps before I remember I blocked Taehyung. It's an unknown number but I have to answer. I might be a response to one of my job applications and I need one now, badly. I pick up.

"Is this Suzy Bae-Prime?" The man's voice is brisk.

"Yes."

"This is Ryan from Kim's Private Nursing Home. I'm pleased to tell you we have a space open for Susan Bae-Prime. I know you've been on the list for a while."

I have to stop myself from whipping the phone at the wall. Of course they do. A beep comes on the line and I glance at the screen.

Incoming call from ZZTV. I didn't block them.

We pay well.

"We would need an immediate deposit to save the sport," Ryan says.

We pay well.

"How much?"

He tells me and my heart drops. I can pay it but there's no way I can make the ongoing payments, and I can't move Eomma there only to take her back out again. "Is there a way I can pay in installments?" I ask.

"I'm sorry," he says and he really does sound apologetic. "We offer premium care for our residents."

I know they do, which is why I want Eomma in there. "Can you give me some time?"

"We have a standard six-hour grace period before we go to the next person on the list."

We pay well.

This time, I act the way I know I should.

The phone screen pulses one last time and ZZTV fades from it. Eomma would kill me if I went into debt for this, and six hours isn't long enough to get a loan. I should have thought of that earlier and guilt pulses through my blood but I let it fade. I'm only human and I'm doing my best.

"I'm afraid I don't have he fees right now," I say finally. "I'm going to have to pass."

"I understand," he says. "Would you like to be added onto the wait list?"

"Please."

We hang up and I lie back on the couch with the phone clutched against my chest. Rectitude. I roll the word around in my mind. I thought doing the right thing—I said no to ZZTV—but who did I help? Not me. Not Eomma. Maybe Duna by not telling her secrets. Shouldn't I have a deep satisfaction in doing the right thing?

I don't, but as I lie there, quietly breathing, something happens. It's not happiness, but it's not guilt. There's no shame. The decision I made was based on what I could do—me, not depending on anyone else or lying, not trying to ease someone else's way at the expense of my own. It's a small start, but it is a start.

Eomma said I had integrity, and even if I don't, I want to live up to her ideal. I couldn't get her into that home this time, but I will and I'll do it on my terms.

I pull my laptop close and start working.