The fingers of small hands find themselves, entranced by the melody as the keys beneath falter and sigh in place. The gentle hum of the music piece flows freely, without the slightest hitch of derailing pace. As the notes come to a slowed standstill, the child looks up to her mother for the approval that all children crave. “Did I do good?” Byul eagerly asks her mother, with a flash of excitement. However, her mother does not smile, for she has been beaming throughout the duration of practice.  Instead she sings praises, with exaggerated gestures, “It was beautiful Byul. You’re going to be incredible at the recital.” Byul grins at her mother’s compliments, but the proud smile quickly disappears, and a sad sulk soon takes it place. “There’s no point anymore. Mama isn’t going to be there," Byul declares, as she lowers the fallboard of the piano with a sunken heart. “Oh love, I’m sorry that mama won’t be there. You don’t have to perform tomorrow if you don’t want to.” The little girl shakes her head to object the integrity of the apology. “She promised me,” Byul persists. Dahyun’s at a loss, as she can’t argue with promises, “I know sweetheart.” Byul doesn’t answer; instead a mask of contemplation hides her usual smile. She seemingly deliberates over something very seriously, as her brows crease. “I’m going to perform, I don’t want to disappoint you,” She finally decides, with a determined fist to the air.” Byul, you never disappoint me sweetheart. I just want you to do what you want.” Her mother assures, not wanting to the pressure her daughter. “Is mama ever going to come back?” Byul carefully questions, as she presses her hand against her mother’s. False hope wasn’t something that Dahyun wanted to instil, instead she answers honestly, “I’m not sure love.”

Although originally in the beginning Dahyun had foolishly orchestrated a web of lies explaining Sana’s whereabouts. It was an elaborate tale of her mama receiving a promotion forcing her to temporarily re-locate back to Japan. Dahyun couldn’t tell her the child the truth, she felt it would only bring pain. However with time, Dahyun came to quickly realise the gravity of her mistake, for everyday their little girl would ask of Sana’s return. Every day their once happy daughter was met with disappointment over and over again.  The months that followed dragged on bitterly slow. The charade would have continued, if it weren’t for Byul’s soft cries late one night.  Dahyun had cuddled her the same as every evening, but on that particular night she had asked, “Why did mama leave us?” It was time for the truth, but it wasn’t the truth that their child was hoping to hear. Dahyun didn’t know why Sana left, or when or if she would return. Sana didn’t leave Dahyun with an explanation for her sudden departure. She had vanished in the middle of night, taking all things she needed with the exception of Dahyun and their daughter. All that was left, was a hastily written note scrawled in awful penmanship stating, “I’m sorry Dahyun, look after our Byul. There was no mention of love, or goodbye, or even a return date. All that was written was a curt apology and a dismissive instruction that needn’t be. Dahyun didn’t need Sana to tell her to look after their child. It was a mandatory responsibility of being a mother. Of course she wasn’t going to abandon their daughter. The answer that Byul received that night, seemingly answered nothing, “I don’t know sweetheart,” were the only words that Dahyun could offer her. But in Byul’s mind, they were more than enough; the words had confirmed her theories. “She shouldn’t have left,” Byul whispered into her mother’s hold, clinging tight. Following that night, the absence of Sana was