We didn't plan to stop anywhere.
That was important.
The car moved smoothly through the street, unremarkable in every possible way. No sudden turns. No loud music. No attention.
Ha-rin sat quietly in the passenger seat, scrolling on her phone with the brightness turned all the way down.
"…This car is too quiet," she muttered.
"Yes."
"…It feels like it's listening."
"That is unlikely."
She glanced at me.
"…You say that like you checked."
"I did not."
She huffed and looked back at her phone.
We slowed near a convenience store.
"…Can we stop for water," she asked.
"Yes."
"…Just water."
"Yes."
I parked carefully.
Too carefully.
She noticed.
"…You park like you're apologizing."
"I am minimizing risk."
She opened the door and paused.
"…You're coming with me."
"Yes."
Inside, the store was mostly empty.
One cashier.One customer near the fridge.
Ha-rin kept her head down, cap pulled low.
I stayed one step behind her.
Consistent distance.No contact.
She grabbed two bottles and turned toward the counter.
That's when it happened.
The cashier looked up.
Paused.
Tilted his head slightly.
Ha-rin froze.
"…You," he said slowly. "You look—"
I stepped forward immediately.
"She's my cousin," I said calmly.
The cashier blinked.
"…Cousin?"
"Yes."
He squinted at Ha-rin again.
"…Huh."
Ha-rin bowed slightly.
"…Sorry," she said quietly. "People say that a lot."
The cashier laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. You just reminded me of someone."
"No problem," I replied.
We paid.
Left.
The door closed behind us.
Only then did Ha-rin exhale.
"…That was close."
"Yes."
She walked faster to the car.
"…Too close."
Inside, she sat down and closed the door a little harder than necessary.
"…I hate that feeling," she said.
"I know."
"…That second where your heart just stops."
"Yes."
She stared straight ahead.
"…If you hadn't said something—"
"I would have," I replied.
She turned to me.
"…You didn't even hesitate."
"Hesitation increases exposure."
She looked away, arms crossed.
"…You sounded so natural."
"That was intentional."
We drove off.
Silence filled the car again.
This time, it wasn't comfortable.
"…We can't do this forever," she said quietly.
"I know."
"…Going out like this."
"I am aware."
She glanced at me.
"…Then why does it feel like you're okay."
"I am not," I replied. "I am prepared."
She laughed softly.
"…That's worse."
"Yes."
We reached home without further incident.
The door closed behind us.
Ha-rin leaned back against it.
"…That almost happened."
"Yes."
"…Thank you."
"For what."
"For stepping in."
"…That is expected."
She smiled faintly.
"…Still. Thank you."
I nodded.
Almost.
That word stayed with me.
Because next time—
Almost might not be enough.