Chapter 28
Since there was no answer after ringing the doorbell, he carefully pushed the iron gate.
It opened smoothly.
‘Is it okay to leave it open like this?’
Thinking to himself, he crossed the yard and stood in front of the entrance. He straightened his clothes and lightly knocked on the door.
Knock knock-
The sound of footsteps echoed from inside.
“Yes, I’ll be right out.”
A woman’s voice called from within. Jeongjikhan steadied his nervous heart and fixed a smile on his lips.
Click-
A middle-aged woman who appeared to be a nun opened the door and stepped out.
“Who are you?”
“Hello. My name is Jeongjikhan.”
“Ah… Yes. What brings you here?”
“It’s nothing urgent, but…”
Ah! The gate.
The gate?
As Jeongjikhan tilted his head in confusion, the nun smiled brightly and emerged wearing slippers.
“Follow me.”
When he followed her to the gate, he saw the broken latch. The lock had failed, leaving it unsecured.
“I was told someone would come today to help.”
“Ah. I…”
“Thank you for always taking care of even these minor things.”
The nun smiled warmly, her hands folded neatly. Jeongjikhan had been unsure how to broach the subject of the man, but this seemed fortuitous. He’d repair the gate while gently steering the conversation.
Jeongjikhan rolled up his sleeves and asked, “Do you have a screwdriver and screws?”
“One moment, please.”
The nun returned with a large toolbox. Jeongjikhan examined the screw sizes and focused on fixing the latch. With adequate parts, this was trivial for someone like him, seasoned from construction sites.
The nun fetched a glass of orange juice. As Jeongjikhan worked, she poured the drink and waited beside him, clutching the glass with both hands.
He broke the silence. “This might take some time. Feel free to sit.”
“No, I should observe. Next time it breaks, I’ll handle it myself.”
“Haha! Is that so?”
“Here, drink this while you work.”
“Thank you.”
After sipping the juice, Jeongjikhan resumed repairs. The issue lay with the spring.
“The spring’s worn out. Do you have a replacement?”
“Hmm… I wonder if we do.”
As the nun rummaged through the toolbox, a man waving his right hand approached from afar.
“Sister! I’m here!”
His booming voice carried across the distance. The nun, startled, glanced between Jeongjikhan and the newcomer.
The man strode through the gate, eyed Jeongjikhan, and asked the nun:
“Who’s this handsome young man…?”
“Hm? Aren’t you sent by Manager Choi? He said someone would come to fix the gate…”
“I came personally.”
“Oh?”
The trio exchanged glances, locked in a silent game of scrutiny. Though no one spoke first, the nun and Manager Choi’s wariness toward Jeongjikhan was palpable.
The nun shattered the awkward silence.
“If you’re not here for the gate… who are you?”
“Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Jeongjikhan, seeking a sponsor of Hope Orphanage.”
“What? Then why did you repair the gate…?”
“You seemed to need help. It was no trouble.”
Jeongjikhan smiled warmly. The nun covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh my!”
“I’m sorry—I assumed you were the repairperson…”
“No harm done. Rather…”
Jeongjikhan turned to Manager Choi.
“Sir, is that uniform from your company?”
“Yes, but why?”
The photo shown by the man at the deceased’s café flashed in his mind—the same uniform worn by the beaming figure in the image.
With newfound certainty, Jeongjikhan asked the nun:
“Sister, if I may… could I see the orphanage’s sponsor list?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential.”
“Does the list include your CEO, who wears the same uniform as Manager Choi here?”
The nun’s face stiffened. Manager Choi’s expression mirrored hers.
Manager Choi stepped forward, brow furrowed.
“Who the hell are you?”
This wasn’t the plan, but directness was now unavoidable.
“The CEO is deeply concerned about Hope Orphanage.”
Manager Choi’s face twisted further.
“Listen here. If you’re lying, you should’ve done your homework. How dare you drag the CEO’s name into this with your reckless mouth—”
“Of course, the CEO has passed away.”
“……!”
“It’s no coincidence that I came here. I came to ease your worries, Director.”
“……What kind of nonsense is this?”
“I can communicate with the deceased.”
The nun, who had been observing the situation, clasped her hands together and spoke in a trembling voice. “Amen……”
Sitting in the director’s office, sipping a drink, I explained to the nun and Manager Choi that I could see the deceased—omitting any mention of the café.
Manager Choi seemed skeptical.
He pressed for details about the director’s appearance, demeanor, clothing, speech patterns, and even the content of their conversations.
As I answered methodically, Manager Choi’s guarded expression gradually dissolved into astonishment.
The nun sat primly, eyes softly closed in prayer as she listened.
When I finished, Manager Choi placed both hands on his knees and sealed his lips tightly.
A person who sees ghosts.
Such a claim isn’t easily believed.
Yet my account was so meticulous that he couldn’t bring himself to challenge it.
“Was the director’s final lingering regret…… these children here?”
Manager Choi posed the question next, his tone markedly more respectful.
I matched his formality. “I can’t say for certain. I’m only speculating, based on what he shared, that the children here might have been his unresolved sorrow.”
“Well…… if it’s the director, that does sound plausible. But…… he……”
Manager Choi gnawed his lower lip, leaving the thought unfinished.
The praying nun finally spoke. “You said your name is Jeongjikhan?”
“Yes.”
“I apologize for my earlier rudeness.”
“No, the fault is mine for arriving unannounced.”
The nun lowered her head, seemed to wrestle with something, then exhaled deeply. “The last time I saw the director…… was fifteen years ago.”
“Fifteen years?”
This time, my surprise intensified. His vibrant appearance had suggested a recent passing—how could that image be from fifteen years prior?
The nun smiled bitterly. “You didn’t know?”
“Ah, no. He looked so distinguished, I assumed he’d passed recently. That gold watch gleaming on his wrist…”
“Gold?” Manager Choi’s eyes widened. “Was it an X-lex?”
“I’m not familiar with brands, but it was gold…”
“This one?” Manager Choi pulled up an image on his phone.
The X-lex DayXite watch.
Its ten diamonds were unforgettable.
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Ah…! Then, one moment.” Manager Choi searched the company’s history online, scrolled through staff photos, and showed me one. “Which one is he?”
All wore identical work uniforms.
After careful examination, I pointed to the figure in the far right corner. “This gentleman. Wearing the safety helmet.”
“Impossible!” Convinced at last, Manager Choi slapped his forehead with a loud thud! as the nun murmured another “Amen!”
After a brief prayer, the nun turned to me. “Did he share anything else?”
“Nothing specific.”
“Any memorable words…… anything at all, please.”
“When I asked his name, he said service needs no name—that it’s not about recognition, but the act itself.”
Manager Choi and the nun recoiled as if struck, staring at each other.
“That’s…… exactly what our director always told staff during volunteer work.”
“I see.”
“He carried those words in his heart all along…… they haunted him until the end.”
Manager Choi’s fists trembled, his voice fraying. Had he wronged the director?
Meeting my gaze, he confessed hoarsely, “The director…… died because of me.”
“What?”
“If only I hadn’t been drowsy at the wheel that day…” His decade-long correspondence with the nun, his visceral reactions—it all made sense now. For fifteen years, he’d shouldered this guilt.
Perhaps volunteering here, the director’s cherished place, was his penance.
Seeing my grimace, Manager Choi’s tears fell freely. “Not one day in fifteen years…… have I forgotten.”
“…….”
“He wanted to drive…… I stubbornly insisted…… my fault……”
His voice shattered.
The nun rested a hand on his quaking shoulder before addressing me. “Mr. Jeongjikhan, might we speak privately?”
“Of course.”
We left Manager Choi to compose himself.
In the courtyard, the nun recounted: “That day…… the children craved chicken. Few franchises existed then, and group orders weren’t accepted so late.”
“I see.”
“One child called the director directly. Begged for chicken, I suppose…”
My stomach dropped.
Noticing my expression, the nun blinked at the sky. “They’d been working overtime. After that call, they loaded a car with chicken and rushed here.”
“The accident happened on the return trip.”
“Yes. The real culprit was a drunk driver going the wrong way. Yet Manager Choi still blames himself.”
“Drunk and wrong-way driving? That’s unequivocally the other driver’s fault!”
“We all agree. But rationality doesn’t erase his guilt.” Her sigh carried decades of helplessness. “The wheel was in his hands. That’s his cross to bear.”
“…….”
“He believes he failed the man he revered most.”
“How…… merciless heaven is.”
“…….”
“Why must good souls depart early, while the wicked thrive?”
The nun folded her hands. “After decades of prayer…… I still don’t comprehend God’s will.”
“…….”
“Perhaps……” she ventured softly, “He yearns to keep the righteous near Him sooner.”
