house. Enough to replace my old car. Enough to live comfortably.
But it never felt like a gift.
It felt like an apology.
When the plane finally landed in South Korea, I stepped into the airport with shaking knees.
Everything felt unfamiliar.
The signs.
The language.
The crowds.
Even the smell of the coffee seemed different.
I took out the address Mary Lou had once given me.It belonged to a beautiful apartment building in Seoul.
I had memorized it during the flight.
I didn’t call her.
I wanted to
