Chapter 24.1

Chapter 24.1

“I tell you the truth, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold through the gate but climbs in some other way is a thief, but the one who enters through the gate is the shepherd. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

Amen. I sat on the long pew, pretending to listen to the pastor’s words, but my mind was a complete mess.

Because the person who should have been sitting neatly in the very front row every Saturday morning, listening to the same verses, wasn’t there.

Doctor Ahn had been gone for a full week. When I asked the guard on the way to the infirmary for cleaning duty, she snapped at me, asking why I wanted to know such a thing.

Yesterday, I even found a stranger in the infirmary. A middle-aged woman in a white coat followed me around while I cleaned, nagging endlessly. No way a prisoner would get introductions, so I assumed she was the new medical officer. Pathetic as it was, my heart dropped as if an old friend had suddenly cut ties with me.

“I am the gate. Whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture.”

Right. Doctor Ahn had been one of the few doors I could open in this prison. Maybe not salvation, like she had wanted to give me, but at least something, a bit of ‘pasture’. She was one of the only people who had been gentle and human toward me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye…

My nose stung a little.

“……”

Seriously? Was the infamous Kim Geummi about to cry over this? A goodbye? As if. I scrubbed my nose with my sleeve, pressing down on the swelling emotion.

When the long sermon finally ended, the inmates lined up toward the pulpit as if on cue, ready to receive the choco pies they handed out after service. Since I was no longer on good terms with Deputy Ki, I wouldn’t be getting snacks through him anymore, so I quietly took my place at the end of the line.

In this bleak prison, the chapel was one of the very few places where a hint of warmth remained.

According to Eyes, other prisons sometimes turned cafeterias or auditoriums into temporary chapels on the weekends, but Cheongjin Women’s Prison had an actual, proper chapel of its own.

I only came because of Doctor Ahn’s gentle pressure and the lure of the choco pie, but with so much on my mind, it wasn’t a bad choice.

When my turn came, the kindly faced middle-aged pastor handed me a choco pie and spoke to me.

“Our 7059, I hear you’ve decided to give a testimony at the Christmas service?”

“…Pardon? Oh… yes.”

“A good decision. How pleased the Lord will be to hear the story of a young lamb choosing the right path. The warden will also be attending that day, so it will be a meaningful occasion in many ways.”

I nodded vaguely, then carefully opened my mouth.

“Um, Pastor. Do you happen to know why Doctor Ahn hasn’t been coming out? I haven’t seen her in the infirmary lately…”

At my question, a deep shadow crossed the pastor’s face. The flicker of regret in his expression puzzled me. Speaking in a lowered voice, he continued:

“Now that you mention it, Doctor Ahn is the one who recommended you. Such a pity. The Lord has taken a fine soul at such a young age.”

“…Taken? What do you mean taken?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard… Doctor Ahn has been called home by the Lord.”

—

Back in my cell, I repeated the pastor’s words again and again.

Maybe he meant something else by “called home.” Maybe I had misunderstood. I went over it several times, but there was only one meaning.

Doctor Ahn was dead.

Why? How? The questions followed, but with no one to answer them, they were useless.

Her round face and round glasses floated up in my mind. Something hot slipped from my eye and fell.

“……”

Was I… sad? The tear fell before I even had time to register the emotion. Strange. I wasn’t the type to cry easily.

I had been born into a brutally poor family. Third of five daughters, always squeezed from above and below, always fighting for one more bite, one more scrap. My sisters, my younger siblings, even my parents called me a scrapper.

The reason people labeled me a brute, a savage, a stubborn beast… I always thought it was because that childhood survival habit had settled deep into my bones.

The world had never gone easy on me, and I had clawed and scraped to survive it. I didn’t cry over petty humiliation or disappointment. I never had the time or the reason. That was the badge of honor in the life of me, Kim Geummi.