A ragged stone of sadness and regret chokes me. “I bought candies.”

“What?”

I turn toward Boyoung. “I bought her sugared strawberries from the ttalgi café as a gift and forgot to give them to her.”

I squeeze the heels of my hands against my temples and wish for a redo. Maybe if I go back into that building and meet Jihye again, the outcome will be different.

“Let me see your list again.” Boyoung stretches out her hand. I nudge my phone toward her with my elbow. “Technically, every Korean who is born is registered in a family registry. These records are kept by local governments. As long as your mother is in Seoul, a local ward should have that information.”

I drop my hands as hope begins to stir. “Do some people not register?”

“Yes. It’s possible, but to get government benefits like health care or a pension, you must. We should think positively.” Boyoung smiles brightly. “The ward offices will open at ten and I’ll start the first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Boyoung shakes my head. “It will be faster if I do this by myself. Trust me, okay? You should do something fun. Go to a jjimjilbang—a spa—or rent a bicycle and pedal along the Han River.”

I spend the next five minutes arguing with my friend, but she’s adamant that there will be nothing for me to do because she will need to search the ward books and they are all in Korean. Basically, I’ll slow her down. The language barrier is too great. There’s no way I can go to a ward office and search a registry. I don’t even know what a ward office is or where to find one, and even if I did, I’d not be able to read the entries. I can barely make out the Hangul characters, let alone search for a name.

I’d never be able to navigate this without Boyoung, and so if my friend wants to go alone, I will respect that.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Boyoung presses her lips together. “I also do not want you to be disappointed. I may find nothing.”

Her words don’t go down easily, but I know she’s right. What I need is a distraction. The Namsan Tower sign flashes in front of my eyes. I know exactly how to take my mind off Boyoung’s search.

“I know. And I’m okay with that, but I don’t want to leave without trying.” I can see Boyoung doesn’t believe me. I don’t know if I believe my statement either. It’s aspirational. The sort of mindset that I want to reach so if I say it enough times, it’ll become my truth. “I will be fine. In fact, since this was a bust I’m going to go and do something fun.”

“Oh?” There’s a tentative, wary note to the question. “The Choi boy?”

“Yeah. The Choi boy.” If he’s still available. For all I know, he’s escorting someone else to the top of Namsan Tower. And now that I’ve made up my mind, I want to be at the mountain immediately. I squeeze Boyoung’s hand and scoot out before she can deliver another concerned speech. It wouldn’t be useful. I’ve made up my mind. I made it up hours ago. Who am I to disobey the universe’s demands?

Outside, I send a hopeful text.

ME: I found Namsan but they wouldn’t let me up without a native tour guide.

I don’t have to wait long for a reply.

YUJUN: That’s terrible. Where are you? I’ll pick you up.

ME: I’ll meet you there. Riding the subway makes me feel accomplished, remember?

YUJUN: Don’t get lost.

ME: If I do, you can pick me up.

YUJUN: I changed my mind. Feel free to get lost.

I laugh and the weight on my chest that has lingered since yesterday seems to fly off.

ME: I’ll do my best to meet you at Namsan. Don’t be late or I’ll find another native tour guide.

YUJUN: Impossible. I’m the only one in Seoul that knows about Namsan. It’s a hidden gem.

ME: It’s in all the tour guides.

YUJUN: Sounds like a lie to me. See you soon.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“You did not get lost,” Yujun says, his face full of mock disappointment, as I climb the stairs out of the metro. I’m glad I’m wearing my sole frock when I spy him. He’s dressed in a pair of sharply tailored dark slacks hemmed right at the ankle bone with a white shirt tucked into the waistband. It’s likely normal office attire for him but comes off dressy and put together, and I’d look odd next to him wearing jeans or sweatpants.

“The Namsan Tower signs were hard to miss.” I don’t tell him I’ve been loitering in the subway for an hour, moving from one café to another.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” He gives me a warm smile, one that doesn’t harbor an ounce of resentment that I first turned him down.