What if he knows and this is all a huge setup? What if he knew I was coming? Although how unless Choi Wansu and Lee Jonghyung plotted this together? Except Lee died and Choi decided she didn’t want to get to know her daughter after all. That’s a ridiculous plot. Ridiculous! I shout in my head because why would they want to set me up in the first place? The thing to do would be to ignore me. Maybe Lee Jonghyung wanted to meet me but Choi Wansu did not, and Yujun doesn’t want me to find my mother because that would mean some of his inheritance would go to me.

I shake my head again. These are wild imaginings. Soap-operatic imaginings. The next thing someone will tell me is I have a twin sister.

It’s a coincidence. It must be. I keep repeating it to myself as I search for a taxi.

“Hara. Hara. Wait.” Boyoung is at my heels. “What’s going on?”

“I need to get to this address.” I shove the piece of paper into Boyoung’s hands. “Should I take the subway or a taxi?”

“Yongsan-gu. That’s across the river, but—” She stops abruptly, her eyes nearly falling out of her head. “This is IF Group. The woman told you to go to IF Group?”

“Across the river.” I latch on to that and ignore the rest. What had Jules said? It’s almost faster taking the subway across the river? I pull up the travel app and type in the address. It’s four subway stops away. Barely fifteen minutes via the train. I start down the escalator, running past the riders on the right.

Boyoung yells after me, “Wait. Hara, wait.”

“I can hear you.” I wave for her to catch up.

“Are you going to see her right now?” she asks when she reaches me.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you think you should wait a day?”

“I don’t have a day to wait. I only have five left.”

I hit the tiled subway tunnel floor and start running, weaving through the crowd of people. It’s probably considered super rude in this country where politeness is baked into the culture, but I don’t care. Not at this moment. I can hear the train coming, the ground rumbling under my feet, and I want to be on this train. I speed up until I’m running so fast the air turns to wind against my cheeks. The train is pulling in when I burst out of the tunnel. Impatiently, I wait until the passengers spill out, hopping from one foot to the other. I want to yell at them to move faster. I have an appointment to make, a person to meet. It’s very important. Move. Move. Move. The last passenger off is a woman, whom I glare at for taking so damn long. I collapse into a seat and try to catch my breath, but my heart can’t stop racing. The train begins to move, but inside the subway car, it feels like time has slowed. The train isn’t moving fast enough. Each minute ticks by as if the cars are being pulled by actual horses, but old ones whose joints are arthritic and who can’t have more than one hoof off the ground at any given time. I drum my fingertips against my thigh. I need to be in Yongsan-gu yesterday.

The train stops and the doors start to part. I dart out, past someone who likely curses at me. The building’s address is outside of exit five. I bolt down the long subway tunnel, watching the yellow arrows and signs until I find the stairs to exit five.

The building where IF Group is headquartered is tall, with blue glass windows. The lettering is discreet and in Hangul, but my map is telling me it’s the right place. Unlike the time that I waited outside for hours looking for Kim Jihye, this time I march through the glass doors and make straight for the elevator bank. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a tall, dark-haired man exiting. I whip around and see a broad suit-covered back duck into a waiting town car. My eyes narrow. Was that Yujun or am I imaging things?

“Hara, I don’t think you should do this. Let me help you send an email.”

I turn away from the car to find Boyoung has caught up. Did she take a taxi? I didn’t see her on the train. The other girl is panting and a light sheen of sweat dots her forehead.

“What’s the point of waiting? I’ve waited twenty-five years. I think that’s long enough.”

“How will you get past security?”

For the first time I notice that the entrance to the elevators is blocked by a row of clear gates and manned by two security guards. I don’t give two flying fingers about security. I’ll jump the stiles if I have to.