Amber chewed at the already sore skin of her fingers as she read and re-read her mother's hospital bill. Another round of chemo. 

How would she find the money? 

Why did the bills seem to keep getting higher and higher? 

She wished she could call her dad and ask him to send next month's check early, but she knew that he wouldn't have the money yet either. 

They'd moved to South Korea when Amber was ten years old because her father had been made a General Manager and shipped there. But he found that he hadn't been making as much money as he had at a lower position back in America. At that point though, they didn't have the money to fly back as a family, let alone get a home in a good neighborhood like her father wanted for them. So Mr. Liu had flown back to America alone, saying he would send money and bring them with him when he could. That it was better for Amber not to have her school life disrupted again. 

That was eight years ago. 

Shortly after he'd left, Mrs. Liu had fainted. A trip to the hospital had discovered it was just a hot day working in the kitchen that had caused her to pass out. She had cancer and it was taking a toll on her body. Using their father's first check and the money they would usually reserve to pay for Amber's next school year, they'd gotten a tumor removed. Only to discover there were more. Cancer growing and eating away at her mother's thin body. 

They'd moved into a much smaller home in a much smaller neighborhood, buried among angled streets and crowded alleyways. Most of the cancer gone, Mrs. Kim stayed home most days, continued chemotherapy wearing her down. Amber went out to work to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table since most of their fathers' money covered the cost of trying to make her mother well. 

The numbers started to swim in front of Amber's eyes, so she tossed the bill away, pressing her eyes to stop the tears. 

Hadn't she cried enough? 

"You really want to go to business school like your brother?" Mr. Jung asked his youngest daughter sitting primly in front of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles. At twenty, she was extremely pretty. He'd been hoping to get her married soon to help solidify a new contract, but here she was, a presentation folder and an acceptance letter in her hand and a crisp dress suit on. 

"Yes," Krystal said with certainty. 

After graduating high school, she'd felt adrift. She'd spent a year traveling Europe, but it felt pointless just to spend her life in leisure. "I want to work." 

"But...business? Surely there's something else you can study." 

"I want to help you out, father. Just like Siwon-oppa." 

Siwon was a wiz at business and always seemed to know when to strike to help their business grow and expand. They owned a number of hotels and restaurants, with Siwon managing the Hotel chains. 

"Perhaps you can study culinary and help design some of the menus, wouldn't you prefer something like that?" 

Krystal shook her head. "No, I want to do big things with my life, father." 

He knew she'd made up her mind when she called him 'father'. She usually called him Papa. 

Mr. Jung sighed. "Fine. I'll pay for your university attendance. Just make sure you do well and don't embarrass me, understand?" 

Krystal squealed up and jumped to her feet, ruining her professional image. Mr. Jung couldn't help but smile indulgently as he was wrapped in a perfume-cloud hug. 

"Thanks, Papa. I'll make you proud." 

He shook his head and waved her out. 'You'd better."