Kim Jihye says something to Boyoung, bows her head slightly, and stands. I want to grab her arm and force her back into the chair. I want to change this outcome and make her my mother so that I don’t have to keep looking.

“Please,” I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me or maybe she doesn’t want to. She gives us another nod and walks off. I clench my teeth together—hard.

“She wishes you the very best and hopes that you find what it is that you seek,” Boyoung says as we watch the older woman leave.

A ragged stone of sadness and regret chokes me. “I bought candies.”

“What?”

I turn toward Boyoung. “I bought her sugared strawberries from the ttalgi café as a gift and forgot to give them to her.”

I squeeze the heels of my hands against my temples and wish for a redo. Maybe if I go back into that building and meet Jihye again, the outcome will be different.

“Let me see your list again.” Boyoung stretches out her hand. I nudge my phone toward her with my elbow. “Technically, every Korean who is born is registered in a family registry. These records are kept by local governments. As long as your mother is in Seoul, a local ward should have that information.”

I drop my hands as hope begins to stir. “Do some people not register?”

“Yes. It’s possible, but to get government benefits like health care or a pension, you must. We should think positively.” Boyoung smiles brightly. “The ward offices will open at ten and I’ll start the first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Boyoung shakes my head. “It will be faster if I do this by myself. Trust me, okay? You should do something fun. Go to a jjimjilbang—a spa—or rent a bicycle and pedal along the Han River.”

I spend the next five minutes arguing with my friend, but she’s adamant that there will be nothing for me to do because she will need to search the ward books and they are all in Korean. Basically, I’ll slow her down. The language barrier is too great. There’s no way I can go to a ward office and search a registry. I don’t even know what a ward office is or where to find one, and even if I did, I’d not be able to read the entries. I can barely make out the Hangul characters, let alone search for a name.

I’d never be able to navigate this without Boyoung, and so if my friend wants to go alone, I will respect that.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Boyoung presses her lips together. “I also do not want you to be disappointed. I may find nothing.”

Her words don’t go down easily, but I know she’s right. What I need is a distraction. The Namsan Tower sign flashes in front of my eyes. I know exactly how to take my mind off Boyoung’s search.

“I know. And I’m okay with that, but I don’t want to leave without trying.” I can see Boyoung doesn’t believe me. I don’t know if I believe my statement either. It’s aspirational. The sort of mindset that I want to reach so if I say it enough times, it’ll become my truth. “I will be fine. In fact, since this was a bust I’m going to go and do something fun.”