“It’s not forever. Park needed someone to work in the guest house.”

“And you were the only person he could find?”

I had the feeling he was making fun of me. Yes I was, I said sharply. The truth was I could easily apply for a grant to study abroad, but I didn’t mention that. Then he asked me if I intended to spend the rest of my life working at the guest house.

“I’d like to see France some day, maybe spend some time there.”

“I’m sure you will.”

I said yes, maybe I would. I didn’t tell him I couldn’t leave my mother. Kerrand looked as if he wanted to say something else, but then he changed his mind and asked why I’d wanted to study French.

“So I could speak a language my mother wouldn’t understand.”

He looked taken aback but made no comment. He took a mandarin out of his pocket, peeled it and offered me a segment. I was hungry. I said no thanks.

“What’s it like, France?”

He couldn’t sum it up. It was such a big country, everything about it was so different from here. The food was good. He liked the light in Normandy, gray and dense. If I ever visited, he’d show me his studio.

“You’ve never set any of your books in Normandy?”

“No.”

“I’m sure there’s more going on there than in Sokcho.”

“Not really.”

“Plenty of artists have used Normandy as a setting. Maupassant, Monet.”

“How much do you know about Monet?”

“A little, not much. Our professor told us about other artists from Normandy when we were studying Maupassant.”

Kerrand squinted up at the sky, contemplating the clouds. He seemed suddenly far away. We made our way slowly back down the mountain. Kerrand in front. Whenever I felt myself slipping on the snow, I held on to him.

On the beach in front of the guest house, a haenyo was sorting through her catch. Her diving suit steamed in the cold air. Kerrand crouched on a rock to watch, one hand on the ground to keep his balance. Waves lapped at our feet. I told Kerrand about the diver women. They came from the island of Jeju. They dived down to ten meters all year round, in all weathers, fishing for shellfish and sea cucumber.

The haenyo started scrubbing her mask with a sprig of seaweed in her calloused hand. I bought a bag of shellfish from her. Kerrand wanted to stay and watch but I was shivering. He followed me over to the main building. I asked him if he’d be at dinner that evening. No, he said, he wouldn’t.

I made miyeokguk, seaweed soup, and served it with rice, cloves of garlic marinated in vinegar, acorn jelly. The girl sipped it from a teaspoon. She seemed to be enjoying it even though she could barely chew. She’d been staying in her pajamas all day since her boyfriend had left. Her bandages were thinner every day. Soon they’d be gone.