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When Mama Irene called just to check on him, he knew that he’d made the right decision. He lay awake half the night, listening to planes take off and land at one of the world’s busiest airports.
He ordered room service twice. Went downstairs and begged for a piece of cake or ice cream, and they gave it to him.
He took a long walk in the drizzle and cold of London, only to return still wide awake with a feeling of dread.
When he finally fell asleep, he thought he’d get a great night’s rest, only to be awakened by the alarm to catch his flight at 0905. As he grabbed his bags, he looked at his phone, seeing several missed text messages and phone calls from Ece.
He didn’t care. He was done being the nice guy. Done taking shit. He was ready to go home and begin a new life with his friends and teammates.
What he didn’t know was that he would be walking into the biggest surprise of his life.
CHAPTER TWO
Hae-Won Park’s first recollection of her mother being beaten by her father was when she was just three years old. A powerful military man in the North Korean Army, he had grand illusions of becoming the leader of their nation one day. Today, he was angry because the vegetables weren’t the right temperature.
Her mother seemed to readily accept the abuse, not putting up a fight. Hae-Won didn’t understand it at all. Why wouldn’t she fight back? Why did she continue to sleep with him? Why?
“This is what will happen to you if you disappoint your husband, Hae-Won,” he grinned, kicking her mother in the ribs as she cried on the floor. Her face was bloodied and bruised, her nose broken. Again. “Clean yourself. You disgust me. When I return, you will be in bed waiting for me.”
Hae-Won knew enough to wait until her father was gone before going to her mother. When she crawled to her, she whispered for her to get a wet cloth and the first-aid kit. It wasn’t the first time. It was one of dozens of times she would help her mother. She often wondered why her father didn’t beat her as well, but as she got older, she knew.
Her father would bring her to government events as his plus one, where family members were to be in attendance. He would always give an excuse that his wife was unwell, her mental illness uncontrollable. It was a lie. It was all a lie. Her mother was the sanest woman she knew.
Despite her father’s protests, her mother took her three times a week for cello lessons, convincing him that it would look as though his talented daughter were a reflection of him and his endless talents.
It was all a lie.
She had private tutors, language instructors, and even someone who chose her clothing to ensure that she never disappointed her father.
It was a lie.
When the cello instructor encouraged her mother to take her to America, Hae-Won felt a sense of dread and panic settle in her belly.
If they attempted to leave North Korea, they would be killed. Without question. Her father certainly would never allow it, nor would the President of their country. Yet, despite her fears, her mother seemed to muster the courage to attempt to give her daughter a new life. She spoke in hushed tones to her daughter every night, telling her how brave they needed to be, how they had to move quickly.
“We must move quickly,” said the old woman leading them through the forest. “We can get across the border into South Korea. Once there, I will give you your tickets to board the plane. Just act normally and don’t panic if they stop you to ask questions. You’re just a daughter and mother going to visit friends.”
“Where are we going?” asked Hae-Won.
“A placed called San Francisco,” said the old woman. “It’s a beautiful place, with lovely homes and right on the ocean. There will be many Asians there, so you’ll feel right at home. Don’t be frightened.”
“I’m not,” said Hae-Won. It was a lie. “What will Father do?”
“He’ll be angry,” said her mother. “But you let me worry about that. Once we’re there, we’ll seek protection from the embassy and hope to settle into a new life. Your father won’t go away, but I can handle him.”
It all sounded so simple to an eleven-year-old Hae-Won, but it was anything but. They waited for months to get their papers that would even allow them to rent an apartment on their own. Once they’d done that, she was sent to a school. A very crowded, very confusing school. Her mother had to take a job so they could afford to live, and Hae-Won didn’t like that at all. She knew it was necessary, but it was also scary to come home to an empty apartment.
For the first time in her life, there was no one there to watch her every move. No one to cook her meals. No one to truly protect her. On more than one occasion, she wondered if she wouldn’t be better with her father.
The one thing they did have in America was very good music programs. When her music teacher identified her as an exceptional cellist, she was sent to special classes at the University of San Francisco. When she graduated from high school, she earned a scholarship to attend the prestigious school of music at Stanford University.
“This was my dream,” smiled her mother, looking weary and tired. “You will become a famous cellist. You’ll be free and, perhaps one day, go back to North Korea and play for them all. Show them who you are.”
“Are you alright, mother?” she asked as fear pulsed through her body.
“Just tired.”
“Father is calling you again, isn’t he?”
