Now six years old, Yeonwoo carefully opened the door, holding her breath.
Yeonwoo's room was a tiny room next to the kitchen, the kind you'd find in old houses, with a small window and mostly used for storage.
Creak.
The door to Yeonwoo's room was old, just like the house, so no matter how carefully she opened it, the hinges squeaked and groaned.
Yeonwoo was startled, but it was already too late.
"I told you to open your door carefully because I don't want to hear the door noise from your room, didn't I?"
A woman sitting on the sofa in the living room, just past the kitchen, shot Yeonwoo a dirty look and started nagging her.
Yeonwoo just looked at the woman with a dejected face.
The woman glared at Yeonwoo fiercely, then turned her gaze back to the TV and started watching.
Yeonwoo, trying to read the woman's mood, carefully sat down at the kitchen table.
Yeonwoo's lunch was whatever was left on a dirty plate on the table.
Yeonwoo, like it was no big deal, shoveled the crusty, leftover rice into her mouth.
Bang.
While Yeonwoo was still eating, the front door burst open and then slammed shut.
Yeonwoo, who was eating, shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m home.”
A middle-aged man stomped in.
The man's face was all red, like he'd been drinking all afternoon, and he scowled when he saw Yeonwoo eating in the kitchen.
"You're such a tiny thing, but you sure can pack it away. A real little rice thief, aren't you? Tsk."
At the man's words, Yeonwoo looked like a kicked puppy and jumped up to quickly clear the table.
"What the heck? Have you been drinking all day? Lay off the booze!"
"And what's that supposed to mean? It's not like you ever fix me a drink, or anything for that matter!"
As the two started to argue, Yeonwoo hurried back into her little room.
They were Yeonwoo's aunt and uncle.
The couple, who didn't have any kids of their own, had taken Yeonwoo in last year after her mom died.
Yeonwoo tried to tune out their fighting, let out a big sigh, and stared out the window.
Sunlight streamed through the tiny window, too small for even Yeonwoo to squeeze through.
When her mom was alive, they'd go to the park for picnics on nice days like this.
Her mom would pack a lunch with kimbap and bulgogi, Yeonwoo's favorites.
But now, that was all just a memory.
Her mom had died from an illness, and the shock had made Yeonwoo stop talking. Now, she just lived with her uncle and aunt, always walking on eggshells.
In this depressing situation, the tiny room was her only escape. Yeonwoo, sighing, suddenly perked up her ears.
She couldn't go outside to check, but she could hear someone playing the piano nearby.
It sounded like it was coming from a music school, the piano music drifting through the window since early morning.
Without even thinking, Yeonwoo closed her eyes and just listened to the piano.
Her mom had been a really good piano player.
She knew every song under the sun. Yeonwoo could hum a random tune, and her mom could play it right away.
Whenever she listened to her mom play, after a while, these little blue fairies would appear, just like now.
They'd dance around in front of her to the music.
Yeonwoo had been super startled when she first saw them.
They were tiny and cute, but Yeonwoo knew, even as a little kid, that they weren't something you'd see in real life.
When she told her mom about it, her mom had looked at her with this look that was both happy and sad, and said, 'Our Yeonwoo can see them too.'
Her mom could see them too.
Her mom had told her they were music fairies, and that they loved music.
Sure enough, whenever they heard music, they'd show up, dance around, chatter in a language Yeonwoo couldn't understand, and play with her.
And after a while, they were always with her. At least, until she came to this house.
They didn't like it here, with her uncle and aunt.
The only time they'd show themselves was now, when the piano music was playing.
They weren't as graceful as the fairies she'd seen when her mom played, a little clumsy even, but this was the happiest part of Yeonwoo's day.
Yeonwoo smiled, watching the little fairies dance around, each in their own way.
But it didn't last.
"Hey, you! Go get me some medicine!"
Her uncle barged into the room, and just like that, the fairies vanished.
All that was left was her uncle, who scared her to death.
Her uncle glared at her like he wanted to eat her alive. Yeonwoo just stood up and stared back, not knowing what to do.
Her uncle gave her a 'What are you looking at?' look, clicked his tongue, and smacked her hard on the head.
Yeonwoo crumpled to the floor, and her uncle said,
"Ugh, I forgot she's a dumb mute. If I'd known she was such a moron, I wouldn't have taken her in."
Her uncle grumbled, ripped a corner off a calendar, scribbled down the name of the medicine, and shoved it at Yeonwoo.
Yeonwoo grabbed the paper and headed out.
Yeonwoo couldn't talk now.
But it wasn't like she'd always been mute.
Yeonwoo had selective mutism; she couldn't talk because of the trauma.
Her uncle never held back from saying cruel things to her.
Every time he did, it felt like a nail being hammered into her heart. But if he'd cared about that, he wouldn't have hit her when he was drunk.
Yeonwoo shuffled out of the house and towards the front gate.
She pulled open the rusty gate, which creaked just like the door, and then...
She saw some people standing outside the gate.
Yeonwoo stared at them, and they looked her over, exchanging glances.
What's happening?
Yeonwoo tilted her head, and the woman with the kindest smile knelt down to look her in the eye and asked,
"Are you Yeonwoo?"
“……”
Yeonwoo nodded silently.
"Yes, you are Yeonwoo. Sweetheart, I'm from Child Protective Services. And these are police officers."
“……”
"We're here to protect you, Yeonwoo."
Yeonwoo looked at the woman, her eyes widening.
Yeonwoo pulled a letter from her pocket. Her mother had written it a long time ago and told her to give it to someone if anyone besides her uncle and aunt offered to help. She handed it over.
[This child has parents. The people with her now have no legal right to her. I was trapped with them, mentally and physically, but please, save my child. If you've come to rescue her, please send her to her father. Her father's name is Shin Jihoon...]
The people who read the letter looked at each other. Then, the woman took Yeonwoo, and the cops headed over to the aunt and uncle's place.
A single ray of light pierced the darkness that had seemed to be all Yeonwoo had ahead of him.
* * *
"...Still haven't found them?"
-Look, we've looked everywhere. They're not in Seoul, not even anywhere in the surrounding areas.
"So?"
-We only work in the Seoul area. To check out the provinces, we're gonna need more money...
"Sigh... Alright, I get it. I'll pay whatever it takes, just find them."
Shin Jihoon, a successful salaryman at a major corporation, had been searching for someone for a long time.
His wife and child.
His wife and only child had disappeared like the wind.
It happened the night he got back late from working overtime.
And for a long time, he searched everywhere for them.
But he didn't just give up on his life or his job.
He couldn't just drop everything to look for them. He was the man of the house, and he had to be able to take care of them when he finally found them.
Sure, on his days off or during vacations, he'd go out looking for them himself, but most of the time, he hired professionals, like he was doing now.
But it wasn't easy.
Even after he reported them missing, the cops didn't do much, and their address was still listed as their old honeymoon apartment.
Time went on, and he became the youngest section chief at the company. He wasn't hurting for money, but he still couldn't bring himself to leave that tiny apartment.
The only difference was that the apartment he used to rent was now his.
Of course, he could live in a better house.
Because the only money he spent was the money to find them, he had enough money.
But what right did he have to live in a good house when he had lost his wife and child?
He was barely holding on, his body and mind completely worn out, but he couldn't let go of anything.
But no matter how hard he looked, or how many experts he hired, they were nowhere to be found.
He still regrets it now.
He shouldn't have told his wife's so-called mother his address.
She showed up later, acting all sweet and concerned, saying she'd been looking everywhere for her runaway daughter. That's how she wormed her way into their lives.
His wife didn't want anything to do with her, but he figured it was just because of some childhood trauma. So, he tried to get them to make up.
But it turned out that "mother-in-law" was actually her stepmother, the one who had gaslighted her and basically stolen her life before she ran away.
This "mother-in-law" had been living with his wife's father, and she'd used his wife to get her hands on all his money after he died. His wife had been trapped there, mentally abused.
He hadn't realized that when she grew up, she fell in love with him – with Shin Jihoon – and that's what gave her the courage to finally escape.
His wife realized she could never really escape that woman, and she ended up going back to that spider of a "mother-in-law," taking their child with her.
At least he had the "mother-in-law's" personal details.
He thought that no matter how hard she tried to run away, he would be able to catch her someday.
But now that the "mother-in-law" was dead, and he was completely out of leads, finding his wife and child seemed impossible.
He was at his wit's end, throwing money away with nothing to show for it.
Then, out of the blue, he got a message about his family.
-This is the Child Protection Center. Are you Mr. Shin Jihoon?
"Yes... this is me. What's going on?"
-We received a report of child abuse and are protecting Shin Yeonwoo at our center. Are you Yeonwoo's father?
Shin Yeonwoo.
It was his son's name.
His precious son, who was now six years old.
And he learned a shocking fact.
That his wife was already dead.
The "mother-in-law's" kids, his wife's stepbrother, had kept her under their thumb, just like the "mother-in-law" had. After she died, he'd been holding onto the child, trying to get his hands on her life insurance.
It was truly a terrible family.
What kind of messed up people were these?
And child abuse, on top of that.
That stepbrother hadn't been taking care of Yeonwoo at all.
Or maybe it was a good thing he was such a scumbag, because at least this way, Jihoon had a chance to find his son.
Shin Jihoon explained everything and rushed over to the Child Protection Center to get his son back.
There….
"......"
A beautiful little boy, the spitting image of his wife, the woman he loved more than anything, was staring blankly at him.
At that moment.
The man they called a cold, heartless, workaholic machine at the office – his heart was breaking.
The little boy was so skinny, all bones, it made Jihoon's heart ache even worse.
But Jihoon didn't cry.
He didn't want the first thing his son saw to be him crying, not after searching for him for so long.
Jihoon tried hard to calm his trembling voice and said to Yeonwoo.
"Yeonwoo, hello...?"
He had so much he wanted to say, but he could barely get the words out.
But he had to say this, at least:
"I'm your dad, Yeonwoo. I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. I'm so, so sorry."
He couldn't say anything else. The tears he'd been holding back finally came pouring out.
