Chapter Text
SEPTEMBER, 1997
Today was the big day.
I woke up early and put on my wrinkled uniform. I combed my hair and even wore the perfume Aunt Chloe had given me as a gift the day I left home. The bottle was still almost full since I hardly used it, not because I didn’t want to, or because I didn’t like the scent, but out of necessity.
Hygiene was a luxury at the orphanage, and we barely had enough water to bathe. That’s why things like perfume and soap were precious, and those who had them usually kept them stored away.
But the question is: why so much preparation?
I was about to receive a letter. A letter from Mom and Dad.
Each month, we were allowed to receive a letter from a friend or family member. A few weeks earlier, some of the kids at the orphanage had sent letters to people they knew (even though most of them didn’t have relatives, which is why they were here in the first place), hoping for a response.
And of course, I was beyond excited to receive a letter from Mom and Dad after so long without seeing them.
I loved my parents and missed them a lot. Over ten years ago, they decided to leave me at the orphanage so they could work and give me a better life. And obviously, I never liked that decision — like, who just drops your child at a weird and isolated orphanage — but I understood their reasoning or at least tried to.
Life in a small city of Montana wasn’t easy. And even if all I wanted were Mom’s hugs and Dad’s jokes, I still found some comfort in the letters they wrote me.
Oh, and there's tomorrow.
Tomorrow would be my seventeenth birthday, and even after so many dashed hopes, I felt a small flicker of belief that they wouldn’t miss my birthday this time. Maybe they’d come themselves, not just a letter. Or maybe they’d sent a letter with money so I could go to Oak Ridge, where they were.
I got out of bed when I saw Yeji rush into the room, holding a letter in her hand.
“Has Frederic arrived already?”
She nodded, her smile wide. “I got a letter from my cousin! Like, for the first time! Her name is Lia, I don’t know her, but at least she knows I exist."
My heart warmed. Yeji was a sweet girl, a year older than me. She had watched her parents die in a shipwreck. She had been on that ship too, but thankfully with the help of a lifeguard, she had made it back to shore safely. Yeji had been at the orphanage since she was seven.
I knew how special it was for an orphan to get a family letter. It was the best gift possible, proof that there was still someone out there who could be called family.
Going outside, I immediately saw Frederic, the young brown-haired mailman who delivered letters to the orphanage every month. He opened a smile, dimples showing on his cold-reddened cheeks, and waved with a gloved hand. I nodded back and headed down the orphanage steps, but just as I was about to cross the gate to get my parents' letter from Frederic, I was yanked backward.
I turned just in time to see Director Park grabbing my arm, her wrinkled nose twisted and the fine lines around her thin lips pronounced. Fighting her was useless.
The old woman was crabby, and talking back would earn you a week locked in the punishment room, where there was barely any light and it was home to rats.
Yikes.
“Pay attention, girl. Behave yourself, straighten that back, and put a smile on your face.”
She let go, and I obeyed quickly. Park scanned me carefully, and although she didn’t seem to like what she saw, she didn’t hate it either.
She led me away from where Frederic, and likely my parents’ letter, were, guiding me toward the main orphanage gate, which few ever used since a huge lock usually kept it locked shut.
As we approached, there was a car parked at the gate. Unusual, since the orphanage was isolated and few around here could afford a vehicle in first place.
Curious, I watched as a woman stepped out of the car. She had short, shiny brown hair and bangs that fell over her milky-white forehead. She was short in height but radiated authority. Who is that?
My eyes scanned over her elegant clothes. She wore a long black coat with golden buttons, probably made of cold wool, and shiny black boots. Director Park nodded, though her mouth remained a tight, flat line.
I'm starting to get pretty sure her mouth doesn't move from that expression anymore.
“Is this the girl?” the woman asked, not even glancing at the director, settling her brown eyes on me. Now that I saw her up close, she didn’t seem older than twenty-one, yet she looked like she could kill me with a single flick of her hand.
Is today the day Director Park will sacrifice me and shave my head for her to use my hair? Maybe.
The Director nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder. My body tensed. “Yes, this is the girl. I’m afraid, though, she may not be exactly what you’re looking for.”
“You shouldn’t assume what I do or do not need, Madame,” the woman replied, pulling a cigarette from her coat pocket. She lit it with a lighter, took a puff, and blew out a small cloud of smoke. The Director didn’t answer, but twisted her lips in a way I knew all too well, the kind of look that usually earned us a corner spot in the punishment room.
After a few seconds, Park replied, “Understood. I apologize.”
The elegant woman said nothing else to her. After another puff of smoke, she turned to me. “Do you like to fight, redhead?”
Instinctively, I ran a hand through the red strands I had dyed a few weeks ago, which had earned me some time in the basement with the rats. The color was probably fading already, and the girl who’d lent me some illegal dye had fled the orphanage.
Coward.
I shook my head and replied quietly, just like the director had taught me. “No, miss.”
But the woman didn’t seem pleased and kept staring at me.
“Have you ever fought?”
“No, miss.”
“Would you like to fight?”
“I... I don’t think so, miss.”
That was the truth. I had never picked a fight or hit anyone, even though the urge was sometimes strong. To me, wasting time breaking skin was ridiculous and absurd. I could use that time to read my books or draw. Or be stuck with the rats in the basement.
I lowered my head when she raised an eyebrow, only to look up again when gloved fingers touched my chin. She held it and studied me.
“Tell me, what’s the importance of being honest, redhead?”
“It’s extremely important, miss.”
“Then tell me, why aren’t you being honest with me?”
“I am being honest, miss.”
“I think that’s a lie.”
Before I could reply, I felt a sting on my cheek and didn’t need any confirmation to know it was the director’s punishment, as always. I felt tears burn at the back of my eyes but pushed them away. I had cried when I first arrived here, but not anymore.
I'm not a kid anymore.
The first time Director Park hit me was on my second day here. I had arrived two minutes late for breakfast, and she slapped me in front of everyone. That night, I wrote my first letter to Mom and Dad, crying and begging them to come get me.
They didn’t.
I kept my head down, and all I heard was silence.
“You hit the girl?” the woman asked, and I nearly laughed. No, it wasn’t a hit just a caress.
“I’m disciplining her. This girl always forgets her manners.”
Says the hag who slaps children just to remind them who’s in charge. Sometimes I think when Director Park was a child, she was so ugly no one wanted to play with her. Then she grew up even uglier and crankier, and now she hates to see kids happy. That thought always makes me laugh.
Terrible timing for that thought—I laughed just then.
“See? She’s laughing even after being disciplined, this little—”
I saw Director Park raise her hand again, and I braced my already burning cheek for another impact.
But it never came.
“Touch the girl again, and you’ll see what happens, director.”
I heard Park scoffing, “You can’t stop me from disciplining her.”
“It’s not discipline when it’s done for fun and without cause, Madame. The girl did nothing wrong. She simply answered my question. You have no right to interfere with my matters."
Okay, I wasn’t her biggest fan yet, but the mysterious brunette had just earned a few points with me. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that she shouldn’t be doing that. It was bad news for me. If the Director got angry at the woman’s words, she would take it out on me.
Great. I probably won’t get to finish reading my book about the world’s most extravagant animals tomorrow, considering I’ll be chatting with rats around that time.
For the second time that morning, I saw the Director hesitate and for me, that was enough to feel like I’d just won the lottery. After a few seconds, she slowly lowered her hand and cleared her throat, trying to cover up the embarrassment.
Boo-hoo, grumpy ass.
“Of course,” she said, practically spitting the words. “Do as you see fit.”
The woman blew out another puff of smoke before dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under her black boot. Then she gestured at me with her gloved hand.
“You need to come with me, redhead."
I hesitated and looked at the Director, who didn’t give me her usual furious glare. In fact, she didn’t even bother looking at me at all. I peeked over the woman’s shoulder and saw the black car with tinted windows. Then I looked back at her.
“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing between the two of them. The woman studied me carefully before answering.
“Home. But not one you know.”
My feet stayed glued to the ground for a few seconds. I never liked the orphanage, it was never my home. But after waiting so long for my parents to come get me, I had already given up on the idea of leaving with them. Then I remembered the letter.
“But—my parents…”
The woman opened her long coat and pulled an envelope from an inside pocket. My eyes widened when I saw the worn, crumpled envelope. It was from my parents. She held the letter between her gloved fingers.
“I’ll explain everything in the car and give you the letter too. Don’t worry. I’m simply doing what your parents asked me to do.”
“You know my parents?”
She looked at me for a few seconds, then gave a short nod. “That’s enough information for now… Put her things in the car.”
Only then did I realize the second part of her sentence had been directed at the man who was carrying the boxes with my belongings.
My few belongings.
Yeji came running after the man and, when she met my gaze, ran over to hug me. When she let go, her eyes were filled with tears, and I felt a pang in my chest as I realized that if I left, I’d be leaving my friends behind.
“You… you’re not scared? That woman could kill you, Yunjin. Don’t go…”
“Let the girl go. She’ll visit when she can,” the woman said from behind me.
But when I looked into Yeji’s teary eyes and remembered that I was her only family, I made up my mind. I wasn’t going. Who did this woman think she was to just show up here like she had control over everything, over me?
She would never have that.
“I’m not going.” I turned and told her as firmly as I could. Maybe my voice trembled a bit from the morning cold, but never from fear.
The Director stepped forward with both hands out, as if she wished they were around my neck, strangling me. The brunette woman, on the other hand, tilted her head slightly, her hair shifting delicately, and the left corner of her lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and straightened my back. The uniformed woman took a step forward, and I noticed her brown eyes flickered with a flash of what looked like bright blue but it vanished so quickly I couldn’t be sure. I fought the urge to step back.
“You will come.”
Short. Simple.
But still a lie.
I wasn’t going to break. I wouldn’t give in. My parents would come back, and they needed to find me here.
I shook my head with as much conviction as I could muster and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not going, ma’am. And you’re not going to force me.”
“Oh, I’m not?” the woman said, amused, but it was so cold, it sounded more like a threat. “And what makes you think that?”
I licked my chapped lips, and my stomach growled with hunger. I hadn’t had breakfast yet. I looked at her, and honestly, there was nothing assuring me she wouldn’t force me.
“You… well, you seem like a civilized person.”
“Do I?"
No. She didn’t. She was anything but civilized. She looked more like some spoiled rich brat who wasn’t used to hearing the word “no” and was now trying to intimidate me into saying yes. As beautiful as she had seemed at first, she didn’t even look that pretty anymore.
“I see you’re very mistaken about me, redhead. Very mistaken,” she replied, stepping forward. “But since I don’t like to make bad first impressions, I’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your beloved orphanage.”
I was about to argue when the Director pulled me aside and gripped my arm so tightly her fingers dug into my skin. It hurt. But I was used to it. She whispered angrily into my ear.
“Go with her. There’s no place for you here. Stay, and you’ll be thrown out the moment she’s gone.” Then she let me go.
A burning feeling hit my eyes, but I refused to shed a single tear. I’d always known that I, or any other child, wasn’t truly welcome at the orphanage. I don’t know why I ever thought the Director wouldn’t try to get rid of me the first chance she got.
But I couldn’t let that stuck-up woman win. So I turned to her.
“Give me a few minutes to say goodbye to the orphanage.”
The woman leaned against the car, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched. I turned and climbed the orphanage steps one more time. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be the last time I climbed those stairs. When I walked in, the others were already staring at me with curiosity.
Of course they were.
It wasn’t every day that a rich woman in a fancy, expensive car showed up at the orphanage and said I had to leave with her.
I went to the girls' shared bedroom, where a few of them were chatting. When they saw me come in, Eunchae and Nakyoung got up from the bed and walked toward me. Looking at them felt like looking at myself. Dry hair, sad eyes still full of hope, oversized uniforms almost swallowing us whole.
Nakyoung smiled at me, and it hurt how wide that smile was. “Finally getting out of this hell, huh? Good luck.”
I don’t want to go. I’m not going to leave you here.
And as those words echoed in my mind, it hit me. I couldn't going to leave them behind and just walk away. I would stay. Hold on. At least until we could finally put our escape plan into action. We’d been saving money of donations from friends of other girls and one day we’d run away from here and rent a place for all of us.
I couldn’t abandon everything and just run.
“Unnie,” I shifted my gaze from Nakyoung to Eunchae, the little girl two years younger than me with black hair who had become a younger sister to me. She looked up at me with big, wet, sad eyes. “Are you really leaving?”
Ouch.
My eyes burned with tears. “No, Eunchae. I’m not. I’m not leaving you here.”
Nakyoung shook her head in desperation and grabbed both my hands. “You have to go, Yunjin. I don’t want you staying just because we’re here.”
“I can’t. I won’t abandon the plan. Remember? We're here together and we'll leave together.”
“No,” she shook her head again, “that plan was never going to work, Yunjin. Never. You have to go.”
“But—you said…”
“I know.” Nakyoung closed her eyes. “But I only said it so we wouldn’t lose hope. Renting a house is too expensive, and even after four years of saving, we don’t even have half the amount we need. Once we turn eighteen, Park will kick us out, and in the end, we’ll die on the streets. So go.”
I saw tears finally spill from Eunchae’s eyes, and I couldn’t hold back mine either. I released a irritated breath, “Don’t say that."
She opened her mouth to respond, but her words were cut off as she looked past me, her mouth still slightly open.
“Your time’s up. Time to go.”
I turned around angrily, tears running down my face. The woman just stared at me. I was ready to scream, to fight, to hit if I had to but I wasn’t going to leave.
Nakyoung grabbed my arm before I could. She shook her head and whispered, “Go. Find a home for us. That way, when we’re kicked out, we’ll have somewhere to go.”
I shook my head, but the woman said before I could speak, “Let’s go. You have no choice, redhead.”
“Hey, don’t rush her,” Nakyoung warned, her brows furrowed. The woman tilted her head and stepped forward. “Or do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter. Go, Yunjin.”
So I turned to Eunchae and hugged her tightly from the side. “I’ll go. But only if she comes too.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then I’m not going.”
The woman sighed. “Why do they always give me the difficult ones?”
I heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded like mierda. Spanish? I couldn’t tell, it was too low. Then she looked back up.
“Fine then. Let’s make a deal. You go—”
“I’m not going.”
“Impatient, aren’t you, redhead?” she said, mocking me in a low tone. “You come with me today, and I’ll talk to my people when we arrive to see if your friend can come too. If they approve, I’ll come get her tomorrow morning.”
“You’re lying. You’re not taking her.”
She replied calmly. “You're the one saying that. But unlike what you might think, Yunjin, I’m a woman of my word. I promised to give you your parents’ letter in the car, and I'll do. I promised you time to say goodbye, and I gave it.”
“You said you’re not civilized.”
“And I’m not. But I don’t think honesty is a civilized trait, especially considering the English definition of civilization.”
I didn’t understand a word she just said, probably because I hadn’t had contact with people outside the orphanage in years. She must’ve noticed, because she let out a small amused breath and stepped closer.
“You don’t know anything about the English, do you? Look how long you’ve been away from society. I’m afraid this place has left you… feral.”
“I’m not feral!” I stepped forward and raised my voice. Her smirk widened, like my own words had just proven her point. Damn it.
“Say what you want, but I think leaving this hole would be a great learning experience for you, redhead. The choice is yours. You can take your friend out tomorrow and come with me today or leave alone, dragged.”
I looked at the girls around me. Eunchae, clinging to Nakyoung’s arm with tears in her eyes. And Nakyoung, looking at me with hope. For them.
“I’ll go.”
My stomach growled.
Would it be weird to tell her I wanted breakfast first?