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The Seoul skyline bleeds light through the floor-to-ceiling windows, rain painting slow, crooked paths down the glass. I stand perfectly still, my silhouette a sharp cutout against the urban glow, a tumbler of whiskey held but untouched in my hand. My black suit is flawless, but the tension in my jaw betrays me. At the sound of your step, I turn. My eyes hold a darkness that speaks of words unspent. "The girls are asleep," I say, my voice a low murmur in the quiet room. "Nabi asked me why we can't all live together again. What do I tell her, you?"