Wansu is startled—so startled she replies in Korean. “Museun marieyo?”

“What do I mean? Your daughter should be given a position here so others can see she is a valued member of our family. That is what our company stands for. We are a family. We cannot ignore our family.”

“Yes, I agree. She should be given a job,” Yujun speaks up. This wasn’t part of the plan. My eyes fly to meet his again. He stares boldly back. Trust me, he seems to be saying.

“I do not speak Korean,” I interject. Work here? In Korea? Next to Yujun? This is not a good idea.

“She can help with the English translations. Hara works at the American magazine Perfect Home as a copy editor. She can do the same for us as we move forward in our globalization endeavors,” Yujun suggests.

I need him to stop being so helpful. I can’t stay here in Korea, be in the same city as Yujun and not want to be with him. I need an ocean and a continent or three between us. I need to return to the cows and the cornfields, the endless discussion of insurance premiums, pizza, and pancakes, and forget that this country, this man, exists. I try to telegraph this to him, but he is pretending not to notice.

A murmur spreads among the board members. They like this scheme. Not only do they like it, but they are seriously considering it. I turn to Wansu. Surely she will put a stop to this, but the woman is avidly watching the other members, gauging their reaction, calculating a hundred different scenarios, and when a small smile crosses her lips, I know I’ve lost.

The conversation is over. After a short discussion a vote is held and Wansu’s position is retained. There is more business that is discussed but I’ve stopped listening. Earlier, I thought the worst thing I’d face was not ever seeing Yujun again. I hadn’t even contemplated that the worst thing would be to see him every day and not be able to have him. That scenario hadn’t occurred to me.

Finally, the meeting concludes and everyone files out, leaving Ellen, Wansu, Yujun, and me—the Choi family.

“You did well,” Wansu says. There’s a smugness in her voice that grates on me. Everything has worked out for her. She gets to keep her position and her company. Ellen and I are properly grateful for all that she’s done. She’s a heroine in her son’s eyes once again. I have been forced to forgive everyone—Ellen, Wansu, Bomi.

“Yes. You did a marvelous job, Hara. I was so proud of you. I know you hated it. She hates speaking in front of others,” Ellen explains.

I’m angry. I feel like a pawn in my own life. Wansu has moved me adroitly around the chessboard. Yes, she was wronged in her life, but everything has worked out for her. She gave up one child but gained a perfect son. She was born poor but now she lives in a house that is not only nicer than the one in Parasite but I’m sure has only expensive cars in the basement. I felt sorry for her and she used that against me. Now they want me to live here in South Korea, the land of polka dots, when I’m so clearly a stripe?