Jules’s tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s hurt and bitterness in her words. If we were friends, if it were Kelly from back home or even Boyoung, I’d squeeze her shoulder, but this is Jules and she’s more likely to bite my hand than appreciate my comfort, so all I say is, “That sucks.” I mean it, though.

“It is what it is. Anyway, let’s see if this is the house of your fairy godmother.” Jules shrugs, pretending like the rejection of her ex doesn’t still sting, but I’m an expert at rejection and know all too well how it lingers like a toothache. Wasn’t that why I flew all the way across the world to track down my sperm donor and bio mom? I wanted an answer, as if hearing the truth—whatever it is—from the mouth of the people who created me would somehow salve that wound that still exists. I’ve papered over that sore—the one that exists because I wasn’t good enough to keep—but it’s always there in the back of my mind. It’s why I cling so quickly and then back away twice as fast, and it’s why I’m here, even if I don’t want to say it out loud.

Jules casts a worried look in my direction. “Don’t get hurt feelings if these people deny your existence. A child showing up out of the blue is going to be a huge embarrassment for them, and these people are all about face—looking good to outsiders.”

“I’ll strive to not care what my biological grandparents think about me.”

“They’re only people,” Jules says, trying in her own way to be as encouraging as possible.

“Yeah. Just people.” I knock on the gate.

“Nah.” Jules muscles me aside. “This is rich Korea. Everything here is high-tech.” She presses a button and shoves her face close to the black electronic pad on the wall.

“It wasn’t at the last place.”

“We aren’t in the last place,” Jules retorts and then smooths her irritated expression into a pleasant one before pressing a button and saying, “Annyeonghaseyo.”

“Yeoboseyo?” comes the immediate response.

Jules waves her hand. “Hello. I’m here to see Kwon Hyeun.” Jules drags me over so that my face is now in front of the hidden security camera. “There’s someone from America here to see her.”

There’s a pause with no response.

“Do they think we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses? Do they have Jehovah’s Witnesses over here?” I wonder, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Yes, but—”

The speaker comes to life and then a voice says, “Jamkkanman gidaryeo juseyo.”

“What’d she say? What’d she say?” Hope burbles at the bottom of the empty cavern that is my heart. I clutch Jules’s arms.

“She’s home. She asked us to wait,” Jules says, a bit breathlessly. “I think she’s coming out.”

“She is?” I squeak. I didn’t expect this. I thought this was another dead end. I’m completely unprepared. I look like I was dragged through a subway tunnel attached to the end of a train. My hair is a mess. I’m sweaty as hell. Do I have time to slather on some foundation? I tug Jules away from the intercom. “Jules, how do I look?”