Dear Mr. and Miss Jang,   I hope this epistle finds you well. I wish to extend a personal invitation, requesting your presence for the formal dance hosted by Mrs. Kim Seulyi. There is a matter I would like to discuss with the both of you under private audience. I hope to see your attendance at the party.   Yours Respectfully, Nam Woohyun   As the day continued to morph itself into the blissful peace of the night, the rich shall never cease the exposure of its wealth. Look at the unnecessary usage of heavyweight paper, written on the creamiest shade of pearl white, tied with an embroidery of gold ribbon, and sealed with a luxurious wax seal. In the end, both the expensive and insignificant item end up in a pile of garbage with an equivalent value of nihil.   “Are you discarding yet another letter?”   Jang Hyunmi recognized the one other female at the orphanage through her steps, knowing only Rika would gallop through the corridors with such enigmatic energy as if she was hopping from rock to rock at the lake. After greeting her with a polite nod, the younger of the Jang siblings returned her attention on the stack of mail on the stand before them.   “It is preposterous; the very thought of controlling us? Summoning us as he pleases and discarding us when we are no longer needed. Why should we have to submit ourselves to their demands?” Hyunmi questioned, flinging another paper in her hand. But recognizing it as another letter bearing similar contents, she did not hesitate to dispose it.   “Because they are our authority,” Rika answered calmly.   “Says who? We do not pay our taxes to them. Their faces aren’t printed on our coins. They are nothing but snobbish people who carelessly spend their wealth on temporary pleasure, or use it as a weapon to humiliate the poor.”   “Mother, you should calm yourself,” Rika spoke, displaying her virtue of patience as a merit. She retrieved another letter from behind her dress, holding it up in front of her. “We have received the official invitation to Mrs. Kim’s event on the morrow. She is known for her astounding parties, having the finest music and richest cuisines. Perhaps we should attend and taste the upper class food without having to spend a single penny for it!”   Hyunmi laughed at the statement, though it appeared to be one of mockery than actual joy. “Isn’t it peculiar how we received an invitation when we are nowhere near the niche of her usual attendees?”   “I suppose Nam Woohyun personally requested your name considering he has been sending countless of letters. I heard he is well acquainted to Mr. and Mrs. Kim. In fact, I think they know nearly everyone in town.”   “I am not surprised considering Mrs. Kim Seulyi made her way into the elite lifestyle by marrying the well-known public judge, Kim Myungsoo. And Nam Woohyun was born into wealth, showcasing an exemplary image of the snobbish rich man I referred to earlier.”   “You discredit them too much. For all we know he could be trying to court you,” Rika suggested, and at the mention of a romantic involvement, had the other spin around with an expression of utter disgust.   “I would rather die than involve myself with the likes of him,” Hyunmi said, making the other laugh through her extreme reluctance. What an impossible thought it was, inviting severe nausea in the pit of her stomach. She had to distract herself with a more pleasant imagery. “Come, we must gather the others and head to the marketplace. Making a living is more important than getting drunk on fine wine and dancing silly ballroom routines.”   Before Rika had another say, the mother of the orphanage, as they had grown accustomed to calling her, left her sight. Rika wished to change Hyunmi’s great distaste for the rich despite knowing none of the fellow orphans—including herself—would have a home to stay at if it weren’t for this hatred towards the gap. After the Jang siblings lost their parents to several high ranked soldiers during the Indian Rebellion back in 1857, they never stopped viewing social disparity as a public deficiency.   ***   The orphanage consisted of nine people, including the Jang siblings who were gracious enough to open their doors for those who grew up on the streets. Poverty was the devil’s shadow, chasing those hiding under it with the storm of misfortune. Those who managed to escape may discover a slightly more improved lifestyle than their previous caste, though it was nowhere near the supremacy of aristocracy. At the orphanage, they weren’t expected to labor as servant girls or boys, but to stand as equals with the owners themselves. This was a system the siblings had invented; an ideal that would be ridiculed by the outside world.   Hyunmi and Rika were joined by Dongwoo, his main caretaker Jangjun, and also the eldest of the orphans, Daeyeol. Due to Dongwoo’s unstable mental condition, they required the two boys to come to his aid should several episodes occur. No one knew the name of Dongwoo’s illness, not even Hyunmi herself. For years she tried finding medical assistance for him, but upon sighting her low class dress, faced immediate rejection by doctors.   She grew up believing saving lives was a noble profession, but the more she matured, the more she realized it was about the money. Only the rich could afford treatment while the poor were left to death. Was it the rich’s treachery to diminish the number of the lower class people? It kindled a bigger hatred in her spirit.   “Lo and behold, the parentless children marching through our streets, dirtying the air with their insignificant existence,” said a woman sitting by the starting point of the street marketplace. Her words were meant as a whisper, but sharp words always came across louder than its delivery.   “Ignore them,” Daeyeol whispered. Being the taller of the bunch, he used his body as a blockade to erase those women from their vision. He nudged Hyunmi to keep walking to their spot and sell milk. In such way did they make a living: milking the cows. It was a tedious job, but it was the one of the treasures left behind by the Jang siblings’ late parents, the other being the country house.   “The owners of the orphanage are complete lunatics. Do you see the girl at the front? I heard she is nearing her thirties, and yet, hasn’t found herself a suitor. What will become of her? She will die a lonely old lady!” Another woman continued voicing opinions out loud.   Every passing second was a gruesome test of patience. Hyunmi felt the anger rising through her veins, but upon a sudden hold, calmed down instantly. It was Dongwoo, her beloved brother who despite his inability to articulate statements verbally, had a perfect grasp of the situation surrounding him.   “No,” was all he murmured, resembling a sheep separated from its flock. He wildly shook his head, almost seeming like he was possessed by evil spirits. But it was another recurring episode, one where he could no longer control kinetic movements and ended up with over excessive motions.   “Calm down,” Jangjun immediately spoke, holding the elder still as more desolant “no”s echoed through the air, each increasing in volume. He shushed Dongwoo like a baby, rubbing his back in soothing circles as people stared at the public spectacle.   “T-they’re coming,” Dongwoo suddenly yelled, and crouched down on his knees, shielding himself from an imaginary attack. He continuously rocked his body back and forth, like he was riding a broken boat on the riverside. Memories of that unfortunate night invaded his mind, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.   “Brother,” Hyunmi passed her wooden