Chapter 1
imani pov
Death is hard
Death is the hardest thing I’ve experienced.
The sequence began the night I lost my Minho, the light and angel of my world. I woke suddenly; the room felt empty, and I realized something was wrong.
I searched for him, calling, “Baby,” until I faced the last room I dreaded—the bathroom. When I opened the door, Minho was lying on the ground with blood from his nose. I screamed, “Baby!” Then I called for my sister, Rose, who had been staying with us since Minho became ill.
Rose, Minho’s nurse, responded immediately. I cried, then rushed for my cell phone to call emergency services: the Korean 911 line. Rose tended to Minho as I answered the operator’s questions, trying not to break down.
Your addresss
What’s going on
Calm down, ma’am
Someone is coming
The operator told me, “Check his pulse.” I did, but found none. Rose asked me to try again, and she checked as well. Her face confirmed what I feared—Minho was gone. As the ambulance arrived, I opened the door, directed them to “1st, bedroom on the right,” and they began tending to him. Rose asked if I wanted to call his management; I replied, “No, sister,” wanting privacy. The medical staff soon confirmed his passing, explained the next steps, and prepared to transport him. I requested a final moment alone with Minho. As we sat together, I told him, “I love you so much, you were worthy of love...now you are at peace,” before the staff returned and took him away. I tried to hold back tears but couldn’t.
