Epilogue: Free At Last
A Coffee Filter CrownFreedom is pricey. All Freedom.
The freedom of a country must be won in war. The freedom of a people must be won in love. The freedom of a right must be won in politics. None of these come at an easy price.
The price to pay is always the hardest part. How do you weight the significance of one human life against another? Who gets to say it’s fair? Who gets to play God with us? The price is always high. Too high. The price is always high.
I paid the price for my freedom.
Aron.
Nana.
Joshua.
Hayi.
Jun.
Wonwoo.
26.802 soldiers.
I paid the price for my freedom. The freedom to stand in a café and roast beans for the rest of my life. If I could do it all again, I would have done it differently. I don’t think anybody’s freedom should ask so many lives. Not even mine.
But I know that they would all want me to take the freedom their lives bought me. So I’m taking it with both hands. Because in the end, my goal is still the same.
It’s not just my freedom I’m fighting for.
The bell rings and I look up with my customer’s smile. “Hello! Welcome to Wonwoo’s Place. What can I get you today?”
I can’t really see. When you get half a grenade in your face, it’s a miracle to still be alive. Wonwoo wasn’t that lucky. I can see light, and vague colors, that’s about it. But I can still smell the difference between a Java and a Brazilian.
“Hello, cutie.”
I grin: b
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