Page 19 of Tell Me Where It Ends

Then the doorbell screams like it has a personal vendetta against my eardrums.

I flinch.

One of the perks of fame is having almost no friends, which means almost no one knows the code to your building.

Before I can even think, Shin is at the door, tapping the intercom. A familiar, grainy face flickers to life.

“Min-hee? I know you’re in there. Just checking in.”

My lungs let out a slow hiss. Yeong-gi, my older brother, the master manipulator of guilt and occasional wallet-drainer. His “checking in” has a 99% chance of being code for: hand over cash.

Shin glances back at me. I give a weary, reluctant nod.

The door opens a crack. Yeong-gi’s smug mug appears, eyes zeroing in on Shin. “Who the hell are you?” he sneers. “This is my sister’s place. I can come whenever I want.”

Shin’s voice is calm, and his posture solid as a brick wall. “It’s her home. Private. Call first.”

Yeong-gi scoffs and steps forward. Shin stands stubbornly in the doorway like a shield. “Oh, I know you. You’re her manager—or now you’ve been upgraded to live-in bodyguard? No wonder she never picks up my calls.”

Heat blooms in my cheeks. Yeong-gi is my older brother. He’s supposed to look out for me. But apparently, family is just a great way to learn how to drown in obligation.

Shin steps fully outside, blocking him from the entrance. “Yes, I’m her manager. And you need to leave.”

“Guard dog, too?” Yeong-gi grins, leaning forward into the doorway and raising his voice. “Dad’s really sick. That’s why I came. Thought the family might… you know, see him.”

Cue the guilt card. Expertly played. My stomach clenches. Could it be true? Ambulance lights flash behind my eyes. Paramedics screaming.

Shin notices me chewing my nails. “Is he really sick?” I whisper.

He turns back to my brother, his voice low and firm. “Min-hee will call her father.” Then, with quiet finality, he shuts the door in Yeong-gi’s face. We hear a muffled curse—someshibal—followed by a dull thud as he kicks the door, and then the sound of retreating footsteps.

I take a shaky breath and hurriedly dial my dad. It rings three times.

“Min-hee-ah?” His voice is groggy, more than just sleep.

“Appa? Are you okay? Yeong-gi said you were sick.”

A wet cough. “Sick? Nah. Just had a drink… or three. Wallet’s a bit light, though…”

I hang up before tears can sneak past my defenses. “He’s fine,” I mutter. Drunk, as usual.

Shin’s jaw is still tight.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my face heating with embarrassment over my family situation. “You shouldn’t have seen that. And… you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” he says.

“Why?”

A dozen unspoken things glimmer in his eyes. He clears his throat. “Just because.”

Warmth creeps up my chest that has nothing to do with the blanket. A playful impulse hits me, a desperate attempt to distract myself from feeling… well, feelings.

“Were you going to hit him?” I ask, teasing.

“Only if he tried to get past me,” he deadpans.

I laugh. “You’re my manager, not my bodyguard.”