I hesitate. It’s another day out of my fast-dwindling time left, and that means I won’t get to spend much more of it with Yujun. Disappointment dims my spirit, but this is why I came to Seoul. Not to hang around the city, drinking beer at isolated parks along the Han River, holding hands with a guy. “Yes,” I say finally, moving again. “That sounds good.” But I might not need to go because I have this feeling about Kwon. I think she’s the one.

“The other women were not— They did not work out?” Boyoung queries.

“No. One didn’t know him and the other, well, she denied having any children and I believed her.”

“Then who is it today?”

“Kwon Hyeun. I was at her house yesterday but she refused to talk to me. Then today I got a text saying she would meet with me.”

“Ah, that’s good, then.”

“Right. Very good.” Excitement surges inside of me and wipes away the irritation I felt toward Boyoung for disappearing for two days. Even if Kwon Hyeun is not my birth mother, she knows something. She must or she’d never have contacted me. I carry this hope in my heart the whole cab ride. My heart beats faster at every stoplight.

The coffee shop is a sleek, modern building with smoky glass windows and black signage with crisp white lettering. “Angel’s Brew” is written in English. There is no corresponding Hangul. I halt in front of the door, take a deep breath, and nearly tip over from light-headedness. I haven’t eaten anything since the cup of ramen and hotteok the night before.

Anxiety is twisting me up inside and I’m not sure what I’m most leery of—not finding out information or discovering something new. Either way, I feel like I could throw up.

“We don’t have to go in,” Boyoung says quietly at my side.

“No. I do have to go in.” I push open the doors and let the air-conditioning blow away my nervous sweat. The first floor has a few tables and they are all full of people far too young to have given birth to me.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah, but I can order.” I’ve watched Boyoung do this before. I get my card out and ask for an Americano, which is espresso with ice and water, not because I need the caffeine jolt but so I’ll have something to hold on to. Boyoung takes the buzzer as I scan the room a second time.

“Maybe she is upstairs?” Boyoung suggests when I come up empty.

“Yeah.”

“I can wait here.” Boyoung holds up the buzzer. “I’ll bring the order up when it’s ready.”

“Sounds good.” I’m not sure why I’m nervous since I’ve already met Kwon Hyeun before, but my feet feel encased in cement as I climb the wooden stairs to the second floor of the coffee shop. I spot her immediately, sitting at a small table overlooking the street. Her face is pointed out the window; perhaps she is looking for me.