Kintsugi

4.

In a lifetime, there were a few defining moments, and Seri remembered every single one of them. 

There was that moment when she understood, really and completely understood, that her mother wasn't actually her mother, and what it actually meant. It was when, on a dark and cold beach, she had counted to a hundred for the eleventh time, alone.

She had refused to consider, even for a moment, that she could have been left there forever. Her mother had left to get some hot drinks she had said, maybe she had got lost, maybe she couldn't find her way back to her, and maybe she was worried sick because Seri was all alone. She had remembered the children's book she had read so many times, with a mama bear who crossed the whole world, climbed the highest mountains, swam through the vastest oceans, to find her cub. She had been convinced her mother would do the same. 

But after this incident, Seri had contemplated her reality with a new clarity. 

No high mountains, no vast ocean were between them. 

No, the separation was much more insurmountable and far more deeper than that. 

Her mother was not her mother. She wouldn't cross the whole world for her, instead, she had left her on a deserted beach in the middle of the night and she hadn't intended to come back. 

Nothing had been the same afterwards. 

There was also the time Seri had left their huge family estate. Freshly graduated, she had gathered her belongings in two suitcases, and she had left in the early morning. The silence only disturbed by the goodbyes she had whispered to the housekeepers. After all, they had been the only ones who had shown her some interest. Even when they weren't paid for it. 

The day before, she had violently argued with her mother, who had accused her of wanting to steal the show from her brothers with her success, of wanting to monopolize her father's attention. It had been the last straw. She had wanted so badly to belong to this family, for years she had tried hard, but that was it. 

When the taxi taking her had left the property, the huge gate closing behind them, she had felt as if a leaden weight had just been lifted from her shoulders, and she had looked straight ahead, finally free. 

Alone, she had always been. Free, never. This exhilarating moment, she would never forget. 

Then, there was her first prize, for the most promising young company, which had propelled Seri's choice on the stock market. Her grandfather had been so proud of her, he had been the only one to come and congratulate her. Her father had sent her a message. 

Good job. Now come back home. 

She hadn't replied. She didn't need a home. She needed a family. 

And then, there was her grandfather's letter. 

Which torned apart everything she knew until now, turned upside down everything she was, or at least, everything she thought she was. 

Seri,

If you're reading this letter, it means that I'm no longer here and that you're in Switzerland, as planned. You must have a lot of questions, so I'll get straight to the point. Let's start from the beginning. 

As you know, I'm an orphan. But there is more to my childhood. I was born in a small town near Pyongyang, North Korea. My father was an officer, my mother a teacher, and we had a good life, simple but comfortable. As a kid, I was very happy. But everything changed when my father was no longer a favorite. He was charged with corruption, treason, was arrested and taken away, and my mother and I knew it was only a matter of time before they would come for us, to be arrested and sent to forced labor camps, or even killed.