I smiled, but I didn’t feel well that night. We had a video call once; she was still beautiful, but her eyes were different, always in a hurry, always distant. I asked her why she didn’t come over.

She was silent before
replying that she was very busy with work, Mom.

As time went on, I grew up, and I got bigger. My house improved thanks to the money he sent. Everyone says I’m lucky. But how can you be happy if you eat alone? Every Christmas, I still set a plate and spoon for him. For years I’ve been cooking his favorite stew, watching the steaming broth with tears welling in my eyes.

Twelve years is a long time. Finally, I decided to do something I’d never considered: go to Korea to visit him. I didn’t tell him. For a 63-year-old woman who had never been on a plane or even left the country, it was a huge decision.

I asked my neighbor for help with the fines and paperwork. There were just over four hours left, and my hands were practically white from gripping the seat. When I arrived at the airport, I was overwhelmed by the number of people and the language I didn’t understand. I took a taxi to the address my son had given me.

A two-story house in a quiet area. I rang the doorbell and no one answered. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open and went in. The garden was nice but cold, with no human noise, no sound of a television.

I approached the front door, my hand trembling as I grasped the doorknob. I took a deep breath and slammed the door shut. At that moment, I was stunned.

The room was spacious, clean as if it were almost lifeless. Everything was in order, like a model home, but there was no trace of a man. There were no slippers scattered about, no jackets hanging around, no smell of food or tea—normal things in a house.

I called
Mary
, but she didn’t answer. The flower on the table was fake, cold, perched on its handle. I went inside. The kitchen was spotless, not a trace of grease, the refrigerator was almost empty, and there were a few spilled water bottles and pieces of fruit.