My Songbird's Dream

32: From the east

February, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Etta laid back on the velvet parlor sofa, the cushions enveloping her as she sank into their softness. Very quickly, the muffled crunch of tires on gravel pricked her ears, the notes of discomfort signaling Miyoko's early return.

Etta sat up slowly, gesturing to one of the maids with a subtle tip of her chin to usher young Daniel upstairs. She arranged herself artfully amongst the pillows, an elbow propping up her head, as she waited.

The front door creaked open, ushering in a chill breeze. Miyoko's heels clicked across the floor, the crisp staccato notes stopping short as she spotted Etta. One sculpted eyebrow arched upwards, lips parting slightly in surprise.

"My, Miss Walker." Miyoko unwound her fur stole with elegant fingers, the hint of a polite smile a mockery it was, more than anything aware of the mutual distaste both shared for another. "Have you taken to loitering around my entryway now? How very...American, to greet me so improperly."

Etta held Miyoko's gaze evenly, still reclined on the cushions. "You're back early," she said simply, watching Miyoko's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as she analyzed the meaning.

Soon enough, Etta sat up and leaned towards Miyoko, her voice softening. "Please, come sit, Madame Sato. We have urgent matters to discuss."

Miyoko's lips quirked upwards, her amusement poorly concealed. "Oh we do? And just who are you to summon me so commandingly in my own home?" Her words held a sharp edge, but she moved to sit across from Etta, smoothing her skirt underneath her.

When Etta did not rise or retract her statement, Miyoko slowly moved nearer, while curiosity continued flickering across her features. "I shall humor you, Miss Walker. Do enlighten me as to what is so pressing."

She perched on a silk brocade chair across from Etta, dropping her mink coat to puddle elegantly around her. One leg crossed precisely over the other as she raised her chin, waiting.

Etta took a moment to collect herself. Miyoko regarded Etta coolly from her perch, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Well, do enlighten me about this mysterious thing you have to say."

Etta leaned forward, withdrawing two folded documents from her purse. She let them fall crisply onto the polished table.

"This first is a formal account of your sordid affair, prepared for local papers as well as your father." Etta tapped the papers with softly as if a teasing song.

Miyoko's amusement froze, mouth tightening at the corners. Miyoko stared, caught momentarily off-guard. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Oh I think you do." Etta moved slowly closer. "The child you claim to carry - unlikely to be your husband's if rumor proves true..." She let the insinuation hang.

Miyoko made effort to remain unmoved... "And the second document?" She coughed as her voice held an edge now underneath the breezy tone.

Etta allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. "Release of guardianship over my son. Your signature required, of course."

Miyoko stared incredulous for a ringing moment before a caustic laugh escaped her painted lips. "The audacity... You think yourself so cunning." Contempt dripped from her words. Still, behind the performance Etta glimpsed a tremor in the hand Miyoko raised dismissively.

"To threaten and manipulate so shamelessly...you conceal a devil's instincts behind your virtuous act, Miss Walker."

Despite her scorn, Miyoko's fury betrayed her nerves.
Miyoko snatched the letter from her hands, skimming the contents briefly. What little color was left in her face drained away. Her glare toward Etta held daggers.