A Child Who Resembles Me [EN]: Chapter 144

144. Where Dreams Have Vanished

On the way home from work, Jiheon’s heart grew anxious.

Jeong-o had left work earlier, saying she’d stopped by the pharmacy. Even though she insisted she wasn’t sick, he couldn’t shake his worry. He remembered her rushing to the bathroom at the hypnotherapy center, looking unwell.

As he parked the car, his phone rang. It was Bae Il. He’d texted Bae Il when he left the police station earlier, and now Bae Il was finally calling back.

“Bae Il.”

Jiheon answered, happily using the name that still felt somewhat new.

[Jiheon, I’ve been swamped with work and couldn’t get in touch. I’m sorry.]

“No worries, I understand. Is everything mostly sorted out now?”

[Yeah, almost. I’m being transferred urgently, so I didn’t get to say goodbye to everyone. I have a long business trip coming up, so I’ll stay a bit longer and leave next week.]

“Great, that’s good. I’ll stop by again. Or, you could come to our house? I’d love to invite you over.”

[…….]

“My mother, Jeong-o, and Yena would all be happy.”

Bae Il hesitated, as if struggling with the decision, before finally answering.

[Then I’ll try to make time next week.]

“Thank you. I’m free anytime.”

[It’ll probably be around Tuesday next week.]

“Okay. Just give me a call that morning.”

[Okay, I will. Take care.]

After the brief call with Bae Il, Jiheon headed straight upstairs. As usual, Yena was the first to greet him.

“Daddy!”

“Yena, did you have a fun day today?”

“Yes!”

He scooped Yena up, then set her back down. Guksun appeared in the doorway. Jeong-o was nowhere in sight.

“I’m home.”

“Yes. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Okay. Where’s Jeong-o?”

“She’s in her room. Go check on her.”

“Okay. And Mother, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“You remember Bae Il, right? The police officer who lived next door to our old house.”

“Of course. He was a big help with solving this case, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. I’m planning to invite Bae Il over around Tuesday next week, is that okay?”

“Of course, that’s fine! We can have dinner together.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but I didn’t want to burden you with the cooking, so I was considering ordering in.”

“Nonsense, it’s no burden at all. My food is better than takeout anyway. The police officer also likes my cooking.”

Even though she answered so readily, Guksun added, as if sensing Jiheon’s hesitation.

“It’s okay. It’s really not a problem.”

“Thank you. Then I’ll come early and help.”

“I’d like that.”

Without realizing it, Jiheon had become someone who worked well with Guksun. Even Guksun had to admit that Jiheon had more culinary talent than Jeong-o.

Jiheon greeted Guksun and went to the bedroom. He opened the door carefully, but Jeong-o, who was inside, still jumped.

“Huh!”

Jiheon immediately noticed Jeong-o quickly hiding something behind her back.

“What are you hiding?”

“No, nothing.”

“Is it a secret?”

“Well, yeah, it’s a secret.”

But she couldn’t resist Jiheon, who approached, leaned in, and reached for her. Jeong-o was quickly disarmed. Jiheon smoothly snatched the pregnancy test.

Embarrassed that she’d taken the test too early, Jeong-o covered her cheeks. The result was ambiguous. There were two lines, but the second line was much fainter than the control line.

“Well… it’s still faint, so I was going to try again later.”

“Is this faint?”

Jiheon tilted his head and showed her the test.

“Oh? When did it get so dark?”

The red line was much darker than when Jeong-o had checked. Now it was almost as dark as the control line.

Jeong-o retrieved another test from the vanity.

“Oh? This one’s gotten darker too? I guess it’s getting darker gradually.”

Jeong-o had been too hasty, remembering how quickly she’d gotten a clear result seven years ago.

Both tests now had dark red lines. Jiheon stood there blankly, holding them. Jeong-o cautiously asked, wondering if he was in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“…It was like this seven years ago too, wasn’t it? Clear as day.”

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t just one.”

He was remembering seven years ago.

“Yeah. That’s what I meant when I said no back then. The doctor asked, ‘There’s probably a pregnancy test in the drawer of your desk.'”

“…….”

“No. There were several. Right?”

As Jiheon spoke with increasing certainty, Jeong-o’s eyes welled up.

Everything he said was correct. Seven years ago, Jeong-o had bought four tests, and Jiheon had found them all: one on the desk and three hidden in the drawer.

“…Do you remember?”

His eyes also turned red. Jiheon raised a hand to cover his mouth, as if in disbelief.

“Oppa, are you okay?”

Soon, his hand fell away. A sigh escaped his lips, which were twisting with emotion. A feeling too complex to express in words created a strange expression. Jiheon reached out a trembling hand and pulled Jeong-o close.

He hid his face in her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I feel strange.”

“…….”

“Let’s never be apart again.”

His trembling voice sounded like he was crying. His arms tightened around her. Jeong-o felt a little overwhelmed, but understanding his emotions, she gently stroked his back.

It was a long time before Jeong-o was released from Jiheon’s embrace. His eyes were still red.

“How is it? Do you remember everything?”

“I remember seeing the pregnancy test that day. You looked very embarrassed, and I left without saying anything.”

“That’s right! You did!”

Jeong-o cheered, happy that they could share the memory.

Jiheon, who had calmed down a bit, said,

“Anyway, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Thank you for being born.”

“…….”

“I love you.”

He answered her playful prodding seriously, took her hand, and kissed the back of it.

Thinking one kiss wasn’t enough, he continued with several more. Jeong-o felt like she was finally saying goodbye to the timid young woman of seven years ago. She felt excited about the future.

She would have been even happier if the phone hadn’t rung.

Today’s troublemaker was Jiheon’s older brother, Jeong Jitae. Jiheon sighed and answered.

“Yeah, hyung [older brother].”

[Did you hear the news?]

Jitae delivered the news without even a greeting.

[Chae Eunyeop’s father passed away.]

It was the news of Judge Chae Seobok’s death.

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

Eunbi hid herself away, feeling responsible for everything: Ham Daekeun’s arrest and his accusations, her brother’s arrest on suspicion of soliciting murder, and the suspension of her father’s confirmation hearing. She only returned after hearing of her father’s death.

– The children are not at fault. It’s all my fault.

Chae Seobok’s short message made Eunbi feel even more miserable. She clung to the coffin and wept bitterly.

“Dad, Dad…”

Eunyeop arrived as the funeral preparations were being completed. He looked disheveled after spending two days at the police station. He approached his father’s coffin with a blank look, his legs giving way and causing him to collapse.

Sad sobs escaped his lips, unable to speak.

“It’s all because of you, Oppa [older brother].”

Eunbi rebuked Eunyeop.

“Is marriage important? Is money important? What’s so important about that!”

“…….”

“If it weren’t for you, Oppa, Dad wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“…….”

“If Oppa hadn’t touched Kim Jingu, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Her voice grew louder as her emotions exploded. Eunyeop, who had been sobbing in despair, turned and glared at Eunbi with murderous eyes.

“Wasn’t it you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you report that cell phone?”

“Ha.”

Eunbi felt even more devastated, seeing her brother still unrepentant and spouting nonsense.

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

Many people came and went during the funeral.

Eunyeop couldn’t stay in the chief mourner’s seat for long. After the live broadcast of his arrest on suspicion of soliciting murder, people’s gazes turned hostile.

Some even openly refused to shake his hand. Eunyeop stopped forcing a fake smile at those who shunned him.

The dream had vanished. In its place, only hatred remained.

He could never forgive the person who made his father like that, the person who drove him into a corner.

Clenching his fist, Eunyeop vowed revenge and opened his personal email inbox. He remembered an email that had been buried. He had hired a private investigator to find out about Kim Jingu’s grudges, but hadn’t opened it because he was preparing for the confirmation hearing.

The lengthy email was nauseating, but Eunyeop forced himself to read it.

「As you know, Kim Jingu was involved in many thuggish activities before the hit-and-run accident seven years ago. Some victims didn’t receive proper compensation. I’ve attached a list of their cases.」

The private investigator seemed to have done their best, even attaching data. However, none of the men involved were built like Kim Jingu. Disappointed, Eunyeop’s gaze landed on the end of the email.

「All cases have clear victims, but one case has an unconfirmed identity. It’s meaningless to discuss something from 24 years ago, but since you asked for anything that could be a grudge, I’ll include the story as I heard it.

Kim Jingu’s family used to run a large restaurant in Namwon, Jeollabuk-do [province in southwestern Korea]. 24 years ago, a woman was hired at the restaurant. She moved to Namwon from Seoul with her son, having left a restaurant job in Seoul due to circumstances.

Her mother was young and pretty. Kim Jingu’s father was a womanizer and apparently flirted with her.

Things escalated, and Kim Jingu’s mother, believing her husband, drove the boy’s mother away, accusing her of seducing Kim Jingu’s father. Shortly after, the boy’s mother died of cancer, allegedly due to delayed treatment caused by the harassment at the restaurant.

No documents remain about the boy’s mother. Her last name was Yoo, but her exact name is unknown. Because it was so long ago, nothing is known about the child either.

Her son was 9 or 10 years old at the time and very smart. When asked why he came from Seoul to Namwon, he said his favorite Go [board game] player was from Namwon.」