Please Forget Me - Chapter 200

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

[WANTED]

Charge: Espionage

The wanted poster includes our aliases, descriptions, and even a composite sketch.

“So, this has reached here too…”

Seeing the last line—”Immediately report to the nearest police station or military unit upon spotting the above individuals, or shoot on sight”—sent a chill down my spine again. But the man tore the poster down swiftly.

“Sh-should we go somewhere else?”

The man shook his head, and the sky above us looked just as dark. It was already too late to go anywhere else.

“There are probably posters like this everywhere.”

“Ah… yeah…”

If even this remote, small mountain village had our wanted posters plastered about, it wouldn’t matter where we went; the situation would be the same.

We chose a house near a water pump to spend the night, away from the road where our comings and goings wouldn’t be easily noticed.

“There won’t be a moon tonight, so even if smoke comes out of the chimney, it won’t be seen.”

Thanks to the new moon, we could light a fire freely even while staying in a civilian home.

“That means finally…”

We could cook stew with the ingredients found inside, eat a warm dinner, heat water for a bath, and relax.

“Dana, you wash first.”

“Uh…”

Shouldn’t we wash together?

A few days ago, I might have hesitated but ended up saying it anyway. But now, I stopped at just thinking about it.

This wasn’t the time, and showing my unkempt self after days without a proper bath was too humiliating.

“Th-thank you. I’ll wash first and come out.”

Such ordinary words, after all this time living like this, made me almost forget we had a place to call home once.

‘It hasn’t even been a week, yet it feels so far away… No, soon we’ll be back there. This time, a bigger, better house will be waiting.’

I wondered if maids would attend my bath then—though that would be embarrassing.

The warm bath soothed not just my body but also eased the tension in my mind. I washed thoroughly, worrying about the uncertain days ahead.

“Your turn.”

After changing into clean clothes and drying my hair, I came out of the bedroom. The man was already setting up the bedding, lighting a fire in the fireplace.

“Come close and dry your hair.”

“Wow… so warm.”

Though it’s summer, mountain nights can be chilly. Fresh from the bath, the cool air felt even colder.

“I’ll wash quickly. If you hear anything suspicious outside, don’t go out—come to me first.”

“Okay, I will.”

I crouched by the fireplace warming myself, and I replied half-heartedly, though I wondered why I found it so comforting. He pressed a bright smile against my forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

I fought the impulse to pull him back—not to kiss him or climb on top of him, but to question him.

[The above individual is a Falkland spy…]

What I was looking at wasn’t a roaring flame but a wanted poster clinging to the corner of the fireplace, half-burned and charred.

‘That man is a spy, and so am I…’

Remembering our reality brought back a forgotten anxiety—and with it, a familiar voice.

“Where else can you find a man who orders his beloved woman to assassinate?”

When he kissed me, I was still doubting him, struggling with an unresolved question.

‘Did you really make me commit murder?’

He holds the upper hand between us now—as he surely did before.

‘If he was my superior, he might have given that order.’

But the man who wanted to hide me safely forever entrusted me with such a dangerous mission? He couldn’t bring himself to kill directly and was tormented afterward, yet he made the woman he cherished do that difficult and painful task?

It doesn’t add up.

But isn’t he himself full of contradictions? He seems kind but isn’t purely good; he’s bad at lying but not incapable.