The Knock

[Thanks for today.]

[Please tell your mother thank you as well.]

[See you at school next week! (laughs)]

She slipped only her hand out from under the blanket and sent the text.

After confirming it had been delivered, she closed the folder and tossed the phone beside her pillow.

She felt sleepy after moving around busily since morning.

As the once-cold blanket warmed with her body heat, it felt surprisingly cozy.

Her body slackened.

She was grateful that Kim Jaesik had readily offered to drive her all the way to the exam site.

At the same time, she had been flustered.

Normally, classmates parted ways once they reached school.

This case was different.

If things went wrong, where she lived could be exposed.

Fortunately, she had taken the initiative and suggested meeting directly at school.

In the end, she still had to name a nearby apartment complex to smooth things over.

Not revealing where she currently lived was Ju Hayan’s last shred of pride.

They had never been particularly wealthy.

Still, when Ju Hayan had just advanced to the second grade of elementary school, the three of them had been able to live together peacefully.

That stability collapsed.

One day, red seizure notices were plastered all over the house.

Another day, they moved.

To a child, the adults’ circumstances were difficult to understand.

Poverty alone, however, spared no one.

It was unmistakably clear.

All at once, bitterness surged, and she felt a sharp stab of humiliation.

If poverty had a form, it would be a sludge-colored slime.

Something that left sticky residue wherever it passed.

Something that clung endlessly and tangled itself around everything.

Bzz—

Ju Hayan, who had been breathing deeply with her eyes closed, opened her eyes at the vibration.

She thought it was Kim Jaesik.

Unexpectedly, the sender was Lee Jonghun.

[Are you done with the exam?]

Ah.

Now that she thought about it, she had mentioned that the essay exam was this weekend.

There was no way he wouldn’t know.

On Friday, Kim Jaesik had been running all over the classroom saying how nervous he was.

Ju Hayan had ended up being dragged along at his side.

[Yeah.]

[Was it hard?]

[Kind of.]

[But it came out around the level I expected.]

[Wow, you’re seriously annoying.]

[Are you bored?]

While replying to Lee Jonghun’s pointless messages, Ju Hayan calculated how many texts she had left for the month.

She used a so-called “filial phone” with a near-free plan.

The number of messages she could send was extremely limited.

More than anything, she was exhausted by indulging meaningless conversation.

[Wow, what a rude little bastard.]

Why did he even contact her.

Ju Hayan was in the middle of typing a reply when she suddenly heard a sound from the door and lifted her head.

Knock.

Still lying down, she tilted her head to look at the door.

The sound came again.

Knock.

For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined it.

After the second knock, she realized she had heard correctly.

She pushed herself up.

She pulled aside the heavy cotton blanket.

She stepped out from underneath it.

At some point, the boiler must have turned on.

The floor felt lukewarm beneath her feet.

“Yes—”

She headed toward the entrance, making it known that someone was inside.

Stepping over the shoes scattered in the entryway, she approached the door.

She grabbed the doorknob.

She pressed herself close to the narrow gap.

The door of the old villa was thick, making it difficult to hear the outside unless she focused.

“Who is it?”

“Is this the residence of Mr. Ju Gilwoo?”

Ju Hayan tilted her head.

It had been a long time since she had heard her father’s name spoken aloud.

“Yes, it is.”

“Hello. I came to deliver something to Mr. Ju Gilwoo.”

“To deliver something?”

“Yes. Could you open the door for a moment?”

“Just a moment.”

A delivery.

No.

Her father wasn’t the kind of person savvy enough to order things to the house.

He probably struggled just to access the internet.

Then what was it.

Thinking she should check it first, Ju Hayan opened the front door.

Click.

The heavy sound of the lock releasing echoed.

When she opened the door, what stood there was not a familiar delivery man.

It was a man in a suit.

“Is Mr. Ju Gilwoo not home?”

“No, he isn’t.”

“I see. Did he leave early this morning?”

Ju Hayan had to crane her neck stiffly to look up at the man.

He was at least a full head taller than her.

People said taller was better.

At this height, his presence alone felt threatening.

The broad smile on his face was barely noticeable beneath his shaved head and deeply creased forehead.

A long scar beside his eyebrow twitched whenever he spoke.

Ju Hayan instinctively tried to straighten her hunched shoulders as she fumbled for words.

“No, not exactly…”

“Then do you know when he might be back?”

The conversation, which she had expected to end quickly, dragged on.

She sensed that something was wrong.

Something about this situation felt off.

“He’ll probably be back within a few days.”

“If you need to see him in person, please come back another time.”

Still gripping the doorknob, Ju Hayan hurriedly pulled her arm to close the door.

Just as it seemed like it would shut halfway—

Thunk.

The door stopped.

Startled, she looked down.

A polished shoe was blocking the door.

She lifted her head in panic.

The scarred face suddenly loomed close.

“Hik!”

She stumbled backward in shock.

By the time she realized her mistake, the man had already pushed the door wide open.

The corridor was now fully visible.

Behind the scarred man stood two more men.

They stepped forward.

Only then did Ju Hayan fully register their presence.

“Let’s go inside and talk first.”

The scarred man shoved the frozen Ju Hayan aside with ease.

He stepped into the house.

In an instant, Ju Hayan was pressed against the wall.

The three men passed by her.

The house filled with the sound of their shoes.

One of them looked around the cramped interior.

Another opened the bathroom door and checked inside.

“W-Who are you?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Get inside first.”

“Close the door.”

“You’re making a scene in the neighborhood.”

Ju Hayan pressed her tongue against the inside of her trembling throat as she spoke.

The end of her voice shook pathetically.

She swallowed hard and tried to steady herself.

It didn’t help.

The man said something else instead.

The scarred man jerked his chin toward the door.

Then he flicked his eyes forward.

Ju Hayan understood the unspoken command immediately.

She didn’t move.

No, she did move.

Just not in the direction he indicated.

I need to run.

Now.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

An alarm blared in her head, loud enough to make her dizzy.

Rather than being trapped in the same space as unknown men, she chose escape.

She cautiously gripped the doorknob.

She pretended to close the door slowly while thinking.

If she bolted now, what were the chances she’d be caught.

If she ran through the narrow alley packed with old villas, maybe she had a chance.

“Haah.”

Just as her thoughts neared a hopeful conclusion, a sigh sounded in front of her.

Her shoulders flinched.

She looked up.

She met the eyes of the man who had first knocked.

The scarred man, who had been crouching and rummaging through drawers, slowly stood up.

He muttered something under his breath.

Something about kids these days having no manners.

About not listening to adults.

His face was calm.

He looked mildly annoyed.

Like someone stuck with a bothersome task.

Ju Hayan stared blankly as he approached.

Her rational mind screamed at her to run.

Her feet wouldn’t move.

Like prey meeting a predator’s gaze, her body froze flat.

“Little brat’s got quite the brain on you.”

The man overlapped his hand over hers on the doorknob.

He closed the door himself.

Click.

The sound echoed loudly.

Ju Hayan avoided his gaze and stared at the door.

The faint sunlight from the stairwell disappeared.

Only the cheap orange ceiling light remained.

In an instant, her nape was grabbed.

She was slammed to the floor.

When she came to her senses, she was lying alone among the men encircling the room.

“Oof, that must’ve hurt.”

“I’m bad at controlling my strength.”

“You don’t have anything broken, right?”

“Get up and sit.”

“Let’s talk.”

A hand nudged her shoulder.

She pushed herself upright.

Her palm was scraped raw against the floor.

It had turned red.

Her hands trembled.

She couldn’t tell whether it was from pain or fear.

She couldn’t clench her fist properly.

“What’s the name of Ju’s kid?”

“…Ju Hayan.”

“Right.”

“Do you know where Ju Gilwoo went today?”

“No.”

“Then when he’ll be back?”

“I don’t know that either.”

As Ju Hayan repeatedly shook her head, the scarred man tilted his head back.

The gesture was deliberate.

To Ju Hayan, already terrified, even that small movement felt threatening.

Her wide eyes darted anxiously.

“I-I really don’t know.”

“He only stopped by briefly about a week ago.”

She looked up at the man, desperate for her words to be believed.

She hurriedly added more, sounding like an excuse.

But it was the truth.

A man who was supposed to be the head of a household.

A man with a high school–aged child.

He was almost never home.

Lazy by nature, unable to commit to work, and prone to loitering around game parlors, Ju Gilwoo had joined gambling circles when the family-run grocery store collapsed.

As expected, he drowned in debt.

The little money he had left vanished over a few rounds of hwatu.

What started as once or twice a week became half the week.

Then every other day.

Eventually, unable to endure seeing him any longer, her wife demanded a divorce.

After that, Ju Gilwoo came home even less.

Usually, he came by twice a week at most.

He would sleep like the dead.

Then leave again.

Lately, even that was rare.

Ju Hayan, who left early in the morning and returned after sunset, could tell he had been there only from the disheveled bedding.

Or from the aluminum pot with dried ramen residue stuck to it.

Recently, it had been the same.

After school, she found the house in disarray.

An envelope of cash sat on the small folding table.

There was no sign of him.

“Has he said anything recently?”

“No.”

“When I get home from school, he’s already been and gone.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve even seen his face.”

Ju Hayan answered quickly while carefully watching their reactions.

Another man opened the wardrobe with a chipped corner.

He pulled out thick bedding and rummaged through it.

Finding nothing, he cursed under his breath.

He kicked over an unopened towel set stacked beside it.

It was one of the non-perishable items they had taken from the grocery store.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“About… two weeks ago.”

“I just saw him come in briefly.”

The scarred man, who seemed to be the leader, sat on the low dresser.

He stomped on the bedding with his shoe.

Ju Hayan glanced sideways at her old flip phone lying nearby.

Even as she answered, her mind raced.

If she lunged for the phone now, could she call for help.

Or should she scream until her throat tore.

The building was old.

The soundproofing was terrible.

Someone might hear.

(To be continued)