The sacred mountains of Seorak.
A lake of baby’s-breath flowers along a mountain ridge.
Choi Dawit’s favorite place in the world.
A flower garden in the mountains where millions of blossoms had been brought forth by the blood and tears of that nightmarish March.
A place where tragedy slept and mourning and sorrow had settled in its place.
That place now lay before Choi Dawit’s eyes.
Pale petals drifted gently down onto the peaceful, placid surface of the lake.
The fragrance of the scattered flowers tickled the tip of her nose.
Choi Dawit blankly looked up at the blue sky.
‘Was it all a dream?’
Perhaps it had been.
She had lost a friend more special and precious to her than her own life, only to be given another chance as if by a lie.
This time, I have to protect her.
She had learned that a friend was someone who stayed by your side whether it snowed or rained.
Jioh had always been that sort of friend to…