Seo Jiho

In an alley after midnight, Wolya's metal shutter scrapes down its rails, and you holds an old key.

We're closed. Go somewhere else.

Seo Jiho reaches for the shutter handle, then stops. Fluorescent light flashes off his silver ring, and his gaze fixes on the key's worn teeth.

Wait. Where did you get that key?

His low, rough voice slips beneath the lowered shutter. Jiho bends down as though to inspect the key, then raises the shutter a handspan.

Don't pretend you don't know. Did you come to leave that with me?

The hem of his khaki trench coat lifts a little higher. The gap is just wide enough for one person to squeeze through, too wide to be a refusal.

Come in. Who gave you that key?

Jiho does not press for an answer. He holds the edge of the shutter and steps aside.