ATTEW – Chapter 11

“I’ll stop by again soon. Thank you for your work.”

Eunho left the police station with Seonghui—still speaking in that polite, respectful tone—and climbed into the silver van Seonghui had come in. Just as Eunho was thinking the huge van didn’t really suit her, Seonghui glanced at Eunho through the rearview mirror and smiled kindly.

“If you’re sleepy, you can sleep.”

“…….”

“It’ll take about two hours. We’re going to Incheon.”

“…….”

“Incheon is… Well, we’re in the northeast of Gyeonggi Province, right? Incheon is on the west side. I came as soon as I got the call this morning, but the traffic was unbelievable. That’s why I’m a bit late. I wanted to arrive before lunch.”

Watching Seonghui chuckle softly, Eunho didn’t ask what kind of person she was. Myeongok had already told her she’d probably end up at an orphanage, so she could guess. And—more than that—Eunho had a feeling Seonghui wasn’t the kind of person who would sell her off somewhere.

Hwajin had said you couldn’t trust people easily, but… no one had ever knelt down to lower themselves just to meet Eunho’s eyes before. So Eunho didn’t waste her strength, forcing herself to be wary.

“But it’s good I hurried. I got to meet a handsome Eunho like you, didn’t I? Ah, I’m so hungry. I’m thinking we’ll stop at a rest area on the way. Do you like hot dogs? The hot dogs at that place are really good.”

“…….”

“Have you never had one?”

“…….”

“This is a secret, but I only tried that kind of delicious hot dog for the first time last year. I was shocked when I ate it. But you know… it’s a little weird for an adult to eat a hot dog alone, right? Will you eat with me?”

With questions coming at her one after another, Eunho reluctantly nodded. She’d never had anything like a “hot dog.” Honestly, she didn’t even know what it was.

“Then it’s a secret, okay?”

What kind of person had that many secrets at her age? Eunho nodded again and closed her eyes.

After that, no more questions came.

And a little while later, Eunho had to open her eyes wide—because something called a hot dog, thicker than her forearm, was being placed in her hands. It looked downright heavenly, and the smell was so rich and savory that her mouth watered on its own.

It wore a coat of sugar, with stripes of ketchup and a stripe of an unknown yellow sauce. The moment Eunho took it, she swallowed hard.

Crisp and chewy and fluffy at the same time—salty and sweet—and there was even a sausage inside.

That was a hot dog.

Watching Eunho devour it in seconds, Seonghui handed over even her hot dog to Eunho.

After finishing two hot dogs, Eunho climbed back into the van and fell into a deep sleep. When she woke to the sensation of the car backing up, the window outside was packed with children.

“Alright, we’re here. Want to get out?”

“Granny Cente’ Manager! Woojoo made this!”

“Granny Cente’ Manager, who is that? Who’s this hyung?”

Watching the kids swarm around Seonghui, tugging her hem, Eunho lifted her head. At the entrance of a worn but warm single-story building was a sign.

<Warm Hands Child Care Center>

It was a welfare facility run by center director Han Seonghui with Gyeonggi Province support—the place where Eunho would now stay.

***

Eunho clutched her bag and pillow and drew her feet together.

Inside a black, cave-like tunnel, she stared at a bright white circle in the distance for a long time—until faces began to appear inside that circle.

A woman about Hwajin’s age. Then a woman about Myeongok’s age. Round heads of kids her age popping in from above and from the sides, giggling—then even a baby peeking out, sucking on a finger.

“Eunho, please come out. Yeah?”

“We weren’t trying to scare you. We just wanted to wash you. Come out now, okay?”

“If you don’t want the teacher to wash you, you can wash with Big Brother.”

“Eunho, oppa will wash you. Oppa’s good at it. Oppa’s our room shower captain.”

All kinds of persuasion poured in, but Eunho didn’t budge.

A moment earlier, a few younger kids—five or six at most—had giggled and crawled in after Eunho, only to burst into tears because the darkness got scarier the deeper it went. They’d backed out on their elbows and knees, wailing.

It had already been an hour like this. At least it was warm inside—unlike outside, where cold wind screamed through.

When a childcare worker in her twenties said they needed to wash Eunho first, Eunho grabbed the childcare center’s signpost and braced herself. Then the kids, overhearing an older worker whisper that Eunho seemed scared of adults, swarmed her.

Eunho couldn’t hold out against hands tickling her under her arms and at her waist. She lost her grip on the post—and the moment she did, she shoved the kids away and bolted.

The place she fled into was the plastic storm-drain pipe set in the playground.

It was a long pipe for kids to sit on and play, painted in bright colors—and Eunho had slipped straight inside.

“What do we do……?”

“The director will be back soon. It’ll be okay. Let’s wait.”

“Yes…….”

“Let’s go in for now. The kids will catch colds. We can still see the pipe from inside, so let’s watch from there. Okay?”

Eunho listened to the teachers’ conversation.

In the end, it sounded like they’d given up on washing her.

The pipe was too narrow for adults to enter. Eunho could crawl deep inside because she was small—and because she was used to darkness.

Kids a few years younger could shuffle in a couple of steps, following the teacher’s orders to “bring Eunho out,” but that was it. They always ended up crying that it was too dark and backing out.

Finally, exhausted by Eunho’s stubbornness, the teachers shook their heads and went back inside. It was too cold to keep standing out there, and there were too many children to watch. They couldn’t stay outside thinking only about Eunho.

The playground finally went quiet.

Still sitting with her knees hugged tight, Eunho opened her bag for the first time. She slid her hand in to feel for the bundles of cash—still there—and checked that the bread was still there too. She’d eaten two hot dogs earlier, so she wasn’t thinking about food right now.

Face buried against Hwajin’s pillow, she stared at the white circle of daylight where snow whipped past.

The winter wind made a loud whooosh-whooosh sound, but it didn’t reach all the way into the deep place where Eunho hid.

How long did she stay like that, cheek pressed to the pillow?

Then, beside the white circle, a familiar face popped into view.

It was Director Seonghui.

“Eunho. What are you doing there?”

“…….”

“I bought meat to cook for dinner. I thought we’d throw a party to celebrate your coming.”

“…….”

“It’s so cold. Aren’t you cold there?”

“…….”

“I heard you ran away when they told you to wash. Were you angry because they told you to wash?”

“…….”

“Or… did you not like the idea of someone else washing you? You can wash by yourself, and they didn’t realize—did that upset you?”

Calm, gentle, soothing. Seonghui’s voice and tone had the power to shake Eunho. Made her hardened heart soften like Hwa-jin’s chest—some strange magic.

“If you stay in there, you’ll get hungry. And you’ll have to use the bathroom too.”

“…….”

“The kids said they want to play with you. After dinner, we’re going to play yutnori together. Play with us. If you don’t know how, I’ll teach you. It’s really fun.”

Her voice brushed Eunho’s eardrums softly, like a warm hand.

It was even more ticklish than the kids’ hands that had just been grabbing and poking at her.

“No one ever waited until you told them what you wanted to do first. Right? That must have felt awful.”

Silk-smooth words, taking her side.

For the first time in her life.

She had no immunity to something that soft and mild.

In the end, Eunho let out a long, soft sigh and moved her small lips.

“I know how to play yutnori.”

“Hm?”

“I said I know how. Yutnori.”

“Ahh. You do? Then… want to play with us?”

It wasn’t just Yutnori. Eunho could play min-hwat’u, and she knew the rules of go-stop, too. Reading fortunes with the cards or matching numbers—those games were nothing to her.

Back when she lived in the red-light district near the U.S. base, the aunts’ daily life—shut in all day—was sleeping, getting done up, fighting, crying… and gambling when it wasn’t that.

So Eunho had naturally learned every rule over their shoulders. Yutnori, of course, and most games you could play with a hwat’u deck—she’d memorized them all.

She’d held a deck of cards before she ever held a pencil, so that said everything.

Eunho wriggled and gathered her things. She crawled out of the narrow, cave-like pipe, and when she finally pushed her face out into the white circle—

“…….”

“Ah, thank goodness. You’re not cold to the touch.”

The instant a blanket wrapped around her, the softness shocked Eunho so badly her small body went stiff as stone.