Echoes in the Rearview

“Wake up, John. Come on, Johnny boy—wake up.”

John groaned.

“You’re one lucky son of a gun,” the voice continued, light but strained. “It missed your eye.”

At first, everything was blurred, smeared shapes and light mixed together. His vision slowly sharpened—one eye clearing faster than the other—until a familiar face came into focus. His brother's face stared back at him. “Hey, Dylan,” John murmured. “How are you?”

Dylan laughed, shaking his head. “How am I? Shrapnel from bomb hit you in the face, and you’re asking me how I am?”

John swallowed and looked down for a moment, jaw tight. “Does Alexis know?” Dylan leaned against the bed railing, arms folded. “Yeah. She’s on her way.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

Then Dylan spoke again, quieter this time. “Well… you lived to tell the story, John.”

Something warm splashed onto John’s leg—dark drops of blood soaking into the fabric. He lifted his eyes. Dylan’s face was bloodied, torn, eyes white and lifeless.

John jolted awake. He breathed in a sharp breath, chest heaving, sweat clinging to his skin. The room was dark and empty, the echo of his brother’s voice still ringing in his ears.

He dragged a hand down his face and stared at the ceiling.

Another night, another nightmarish vision from the past.

*****

A few hours later, just after sunrise, Mei waited outside in her office outfit, standing beside a black coupé with tinted windows.

John stepped out of the building, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Get in,” Mei said.

They settled into the car. As Mei checked the mirrors, she glanced at him. “Is that everything you’re bringing? We don’t know how long this assignment will last.”

John nodded. “It’s all I need.”

She started the engine, and the car pulled smoothly onto the road. He looked around the interior. “I’ve heard the company uses cars like this,” he said. “Never actually been in one.”

Mei smirked. “Consider it a special occasion, then.” She opened the dashboard compartment and pulled out a photograph, handing it to him. “Does he look familiar?”

John studied it for a second. “Yeah. He’s the one who got away—the guy who tried to kidnap Aria last night. You found him that fast?”

“Not exactly,” Mei replied. “I traced the license plate you gave me. The SUV turned out to be stolen. Police found it burned outside town with this guy, Seo-yeon Han, tied up in the back. He was a known member of Baekhwa—White Flower—linked to human trafficking and organ theft.”

John leaned back slightly. “White Flower,” John murmured. “Someone’s tying up loose ends.”

“The others, did they talk?” He continued.

Mei shook her head. “They pinned everything on Han. Claimed he forced them into it.” She waited for a moment then continued, “Now that you’ve slept on it… what do you think about the sisters?”

John replied, “I didn’t interact much with Aria, but from what I saw, she’s the type who knows she shouldn’t do something… and does it anyway, then regrets it afterward.”

Mei gave a small huff. “That’s called being young and reckless, John. And Rina?”

“Would an older sister cover up for a younger one out of misguided care… or is there an ulterior motive?” He thought for a moment, then added, “Then again, she genuinely panicked when her phone was dead and she rushed to the hospital the moment she could. That didn’t feel fake.”

Silence filled the car.

Mei glanced at him. “Talk to me, John. What’s going through your head?”

John exhaled slowly. “Too many strings,” he said. “I looked up videos of the missing idols online, some of them were just good-looking and some were talented. The last two or three had both the looks and talent.”

He paused. “After what you told me… I think I know what happened to them. I hope, I'm wrong and they are all fine. But...”

“Don’t say it,” Mei cut in. “It’s too early in the morning for that kind of dark crap.”

She nodded ahead. “We’re almost there.”

John followed her gaze and saw it—the Kingsley mansion rising beyond massive iron gates, surrounded by wide, manicured grounds.

But what caught his attention wasn’t the mansion. It was the crowd. A swarm of paparazzi packed outside the entrance, cameras raised, voices overlapping. “That’s… a little too many paparazzi,” John muttered.

“That’s exactly why you’re in a car with tinted windows,” Mei replied. “And why you should prepare yourself mentally. She’s one of the most famous people in the country. A massive, loyal following comes with the territory.”

Mei pressed the intercom beside the gate. “A.E.G.I.S. Protection Group,” she said clearly. “Code Lancelot.”

A brief pause. Then the gates slowly opened, allowing them inside.

The driveway stretched wide and pale. Pines lined both sides, tall and symmetrically placed, their branches trimmed high enough to reveal the estate rising beyond. Kingsley Mansion sat on elevated land, its lower terraces of lawns manicured to near-artificial perfection, followed by stone retaining walls softened with ivy and winter roses.

Mei whistled. “They even have their own bamboo forest in here.”

The central structure resembled an English country manor—pale stone and tall windows—yet woven into the design were unmistakably Japanese elements—dark wooden eaves, and a long engawa balcony running the length of the eastern wing. The drive curved upward before reaching the front entrance.

As the car stopped in front of the doors, Mei looked at John. “This is it. Hope you’re ready for this. But before you go, there’s something you need to know.”

John turned to her.

“Both sisters were trained as actors and singers by the best,” Mei continued. “Be careful with what they say and do. You won’t always know when they’re acting… and when they’re being genuine.”

“I’ll keep an eye on Rina,” John said.

Mei replied instantly, “I’m talking about both of them. Most betrayals come from those who look meek, weak, and innocent especially the ones we trust the most.”

John’s focus drifted for a few seconds at her words, then quickly smiled. “Duly noted.”

They both moved to get out of the car. “You’re coming too?” John asked.

“Yep, I’m collecting the papers you gave them to sign.”

As they stepped out, Mei nodded toward a golden sports car parked there. “Heads up, John. Looks like they already have another guest besides us.”