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CHAPTER ONE ( Fragments Of A Deadbeat Mother )
THE FLIGHT FROM Guangzhou to Seoul is unbearably smooth, but that does little to help calm the storm brewing in Zhao Daiyu's stomach.
Even as the plane glides steadily through the air, the young teen cannot help but grip the seat's armrest tightly as uncertainty claws at her lower abdomen.
The chinese-korean girl's seat is crammed in the back, a single seat with little to no ventilation. Her legs, hidden away under a pair of baggy sweats, are cramped between the small space between her seat and the one in front of her.
At least she has a window to look out of, she reminds herself repeatedly. It isn't much, but at the very least it provides a small bit of distraction from her jittery fingers and helplessly distraught appearance.
Daiyu's anxiousness grows with every passing minute, picking at the skin around her fingernails, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. She begins to regret ever booking the flight in secrecy. Her father would surely be worried endlessly over the safety of his one and only daughter as soon as he got home from work to find an empty house.
Hopefully he didn't get too angry when he read the note she left. Otherwise she'd be done for real this time.
Clutching her backpack filled with just enough money and clothes to last her the 2 weeks she planned to stay, the teen gently lifts the small, torn up piece of paper out of her bag.
I want to meet my daughter. To tell her why I did what I did. Please give me the chance to make up for mycowardice. I left my address down below, if you ever decide to give me the privilege to apologize face to face.
— Best wishes, [ーーーーーー]
The last part of the note seemed to be heavily scribbled off, as in anger. The words drawn over are dainty and gentle, as though pondered for minutes before being written down in paper. Daiyu never expected a single torn up letter to have her on a 2 hour flight from China to Korea, but here she is, making what was probably the biggest mistake of her life.
Stuffing the yellowish paper back into her backpack, Daiyu slouches further in her seat and closes her eyes, hoping to catch even the faintest amount of sleep. No matter how nervous she is, she could always take a nap.
DAIYU WAKES WITH an ache in her neck and a mark on her face from where it had been pressed against the cool window. Giving a yawn, the Chinese-Korean girl took notice of the people exiting the plane.
