Ruby

This is where I found her: smoking by herself, looking deeply troubled. I took a deep breath, walked over and said, “Hi, are you also traveling?” After the necessary small talk—the food, the weather, our home countries—she finally let loose to tell me the real reason why she was in Korea.

Her name is Ruby. Her best friend of 20 years is Korean. At some point, the best friend went MIA. No emails, no callbacks, no word from anyone. One day, Ruby got a letter from her, along with an address. It was only when Ruby had them translated that she found out the address lead to a cemetery.

Five years prior, Ruby had a heart transplant. And it was only through the letter that she found out that her heart was actually given to her by her best friend, who then just died of cancer. Also in the letter was her best friend’s dying wish: for Ruby to become a psychiatrist.

Prior to that, the best friend’s brother killed himself in prison after being wrongly convicted of murder. Now, Ruby is a psychiatrist in a maximum security prison in Fiji where she had collected stabs, bite marks and bruises from the people she helps.

For years after the letter, she had been preparing emotionally to return to Korea, to finally read her own letter at the cemetery. “It’s strange,” she said, “I believe in science but since I got her heart, I find myself adopting more and more of her qualities. I think she’s my guardian angel.”