“Is that Rachel? Are you telling her the news?” Umma’s voice says in the background. “Put her on speaker so I can talk too!”

A second later, I hear both their voices on the phone.

“Rachel, can you hear me?” Umma says.

“Hi, Umma, I’m here,” I say. “What’s going on?”

“You tell her,” Appa says.

“No, no, you,” Umma says.

I tap my fingers on my knee, my leg jiggling nervously up and down. “Can someone please tell me? I’m dying over here.”

“All right, we’ll do it together,” Appa says. “Three, two, one…”

“We moved to Cheongdam-dong!” they both chorus into the phone.

“What!” I cry. “What do you mean you moved to Cheongdam-dong? Cheongdam-dong as in the neighborhood where I live?”

“Five minutes away from where you live, to be exact,” Appa says gleefully. “We really wanted to move closer to you, so I’ve been working extra hard to save up enough to buy this place.”

Wow. Real estate in Cheongdam-dong is not cheap. I think back to all those three a.m. texts from Appa. He must have still been in the office when he sent them. I can’t believe he worked so hard just so they could be nearer to me.

“It was quite the challenge to keep it a secret from you, especially for Leah,” Umma laughs. “She was always asking when she could tell you,” she continues. “But we wanted it to be a surprise.”

Happy tears fill my eyes. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re so close to me now! This is amazing news. When did you move?”

“Last week. We just settled in,” Appa says. “We wanted to get it ready before we told you. When can you come see the place?”

“Text me the address,” I say. “I can head over right now!”

As soon as we hang up the phone, I lean forward in my seat to speak to Jongseok. “Could you actually drop me off somewhere else?” I smile.

“No problem. Where to?” he asks.

“Home.”

EIGHTEEN

The first thing that greets me as I walk through the door of Umma and Appa’s new apartment is the smell of warm kimchi fried rice, hot off the stove, with a sunny-side-up egg on top.

“Eat, eat,” Umma says, ushering me over to the walnut farmer’s table in the eat-in kitchen. “If I knew you were coming today, I would have prepared something more!”

“No, no, this is perfect,” I say. The smell of Umma’s cooking alone is so comforting that I want to wrap myself up in it like a duvet cover. “But wait, I want to see the rest of the place!”

“We’ll give you the full tour later,” Umma says firmly, sitting me down in a kitchen chair. “But first, eat.”