I backed away from the kitchen.
Then I slipped outside wearing house slippers and called Emily.
No answer.
So I sent one message.
**Call me when you’re alone. Please.**
I stood outside in the cold wondering whether telling her what I had heard would protect my daughter or simply explode a marriage I didn’t fully understand.
Less than an hour later, the front door flew open.
“I got it!”
Emily rushed inside glowing with excitement.
Joon and I had been clearing the table.
Young-ho had gone out to buy a dessert Emily loved.
“The promotion,” she said. “I got it!”
I hugged her.
“I knew you would.”
“They want me leading the regional team.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Then she added,
“Four years.”
Over her shoulder, I saw Joon’s expression change.
Emily pulled back.
“Four years, maybe longer.”
Joon smiled.
But half a second too late.
“That’s incredible.”
I looked at him.
He knew exactly what four more years in Korea meant for the plans he had been making.
Later, while Emily was showering, I found Joon alone in the kitchen.
“Does she know?”
He looked up.
“Know what?”
“The interviews.”
His face changed.
Then he asked quietly,
“How much Korean do you understand?”
“Enough to know you’re making plans involving my daughter without telling her.”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Keep your voice down, Stella.”
“I will when you answer me.”
I stepped closer.
“Did you marry Emily because she was American?”
His head snapped toward me.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Then explain what your father meant.”
Joon dragged a hand across his face.
