Back at the airport, I struggled to answer Ji Hoo’s question. I wanted to be accountable and answer his question, but I just froze with uncertainty, and once again, I felt like an outsider….a stranger, only allowed to watch these people that I had come to love, live their lives without me because I didn’t belong…at least not in the permanent sense.

    “I don’t know Ji Hoo. I just don’t know what I’m doing here anymore. I feel like I’ve done absolutely everything I can for you and your family. Ji Yung is 12 now. I mean, she’s growing into a beautiful girl. Her English is great; better than most 12 year old American’s her age. Your dad is dating again…with your blessing…and everyone is happy and okay. I’ve done what I said I would do. Even more than I thought I could, and I can’t stay here forever. I don’t belong here; this isn’t my home. I should go back to the states. I have good reason to do it…a great job…that I’ve put off taking for years, and I can’t do that anymore.”

     Ji Hoo stared at me with great seriousness. He furrowed his brow a little before looking back up at me. “So now that you’ve invaded our lives, turned things upside down, befriended us, laughed with us, yelled at us, cried with us…now that this has all passed, it’s just over for you…and we mean nothing?”

     I was confused and angry all at once. What was he saying?  I gave his family 3 years of my life. I nearly died for his little sister, and this was his response? Tears ran down my cheeks. I looked at the floor, wiped them away, and then looked back at him.

     “Did I ever say that? Did I ever say you didn’t mean anything to me. It kills me to do thi—“ I was choking on my words, trying to swallow them as I desperately started to finish what I intended to say. “THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING IT?!” He interrupted me with a raised yet concerned voice. More tears came almost immediately after he finished his question. Lots of them. I couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when I was so close to shutting out all of the questions I had asked myself.

     “I’m sorry I just. I can’t….” I looked down at my suitcase, grabbed the handle, and looked back up at him. “Goodbye, Ji Hoo. Please be happy. Please just do that for me, okay?  It will all be worth it, if you’re happy.”

I turned and walked away from him as quickly as I could.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

     After the car accident, I ended up in a coma for about a day and a half. I had a broken collar bone, but other than that, I had come out of it safely, and so had the little girl; other than a few scapes and scratches, she had escaped unscathed. 

     Ji Yung, was 8 years old, and very much a fan of Hello Kitty, the color purple, and playing with dolls. Because my Korean was rough, we couldn’t communicate through conversation, but we got along regardless. Ji Yung wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, Chanelle discovered through some of the nurses. She, apparently, was very shy and only spoke around close friends or family members. “Well, I totally get that.” I said as Ji Yung sat at the craft table coloring.  “Sometimes, people freak me out too.” I laughed. But not a glance from Ji Yung. She was quite invested in the picture she was drawing.

     When she was done, she ran over to my wheelchair and handed it to me. It was a picture of a very large house with a dog and two men in the front of it.  She pointed to one of the stick figures and said “appa!” I nodded in understanding. “Omo. Is this your house?” She stopped and looked at me strangely, which reminded me I was speaking in English “Gip?” I asked again. She nodded.

     When Chanelle was wheeling me back to my room for an X-ray, we stopped to ask the nurses why Ji Yung was still hospitalized. Apparently, they couldn’t find any family relation for her, and though the hospital had reported her as a missing person to the police it was difficult to get any information on her family because she wasn’t speaking or saying a lot to the hospital staff. It had even been suggested she might have a mild form of autism, Chanelle explained.

     “Well maybe I can get some kind of information from her? She just seems to be pretty comfortable around me? I know my Korean is rusty, but I really want to give it a try…especially if she has family that are looking for her…I mean, I can’t imagine being a parent or family member and not knowing where she is…” The hospital staff agreed that talking to me might be able to provide us answers about Ji Yung’s family and Chanelle would be allowed to stay in the room, hidden, to understand any Korean I didn’t quite understand.

     The next day, I went into Ji Yung’s room as I had many days before that, with some crayons and blank paper, hoping to get some answers for her so that she would be able to finally go home. When I wheeled myself in, I noticed Ji Yung was watching TV, so I just rolled up beside the bed and just sat there for a moment. Ji Yung seemed especially engrossed in the news program; when she noticed I was there, she crawled over to me, and sat in my lap. We continued to watch TV for a little while, just passing time to make it seem like a typical visit.

“Ji Yung, eonnie is going to ask you some questions, okay? If you can give me any kind of answer, eonnie would be very happy!” Ji Yung just continued to watch TV. And so I went through the typical questions. Sometimes Ji Yung would look at me, but for the most part, I was being ignored. I thought about turning off the TV, but decided against it. I didn’t want to upset her…I just wanted answers. And then all of a sudden:

     “OPPA!”  I stopped for a moment, in disbelief that she had said anything at all. “OPPA!” she repeated again. She was pointing at the TV. I looked up and saw a young man, about my age. Perhaps a year or two older….well dressed, in a tuxedo, attending some sort of charity auction. He seemed oddly familiar.  Chanelle came out from behind the curtain, ran towards the TV and turned the volume up.  We both heard the broadcaster say his name: “Park Ji Hoo….” …..and maybe something about a charity for terminally ill children? I wasn’t sure, but I knew Chanelle would.

     “Chanelle, what is she talking about?” I asked.  Chanelle just turned towards me, with open. She walked up to Ji Yung and asked “Park Ji Yung? THE PARK JI YUNG?” The little one drew back. I became protective of her immediately. “Stop Chanelle. You’ll scare her!” I hugged her tightly, assuring her that it was okay.

     “Kara, you don’t understand. If she’s Park Ji Yung, you’ve just, inadvertently associated yourself with one of the richest families in South Korea. I mean, her father, Park Jae Hwa is CEO of one of the largest construction companies in South Korea, ParkWay Construction…” Chanelle’s voice trailed off. I looked back at Ji Yung again with curiosity and asked if Ji Hoo was her “oppa.”  Ji Yung smiled, nodded and then pointed to the stick figure she had drawn for me just a few days before.

     Chanelle and I looked stared at one another in disbelief and skepticism, but all it took was a quick Google of Park Ji Yung’s name, and her picture came up rather quickly. It was her, alright.  But, it raised more questions, than it answered. How could such an important little girl be left  in the middle of a district so far from her home without supervision? And how could someone lose her? Was someone in Korea looking for her?

A few hours later, we continued to talk about this little girl and her family; and while we were busy considering possiblities, a nurse came in and noted that Ji Yung’s father, who was in fact, Park Jae Hwa, was overseas managing relations for a new billion dollar construction project, and he had no idea that his daughter had been in an accident, was missing, or even out of touch with family members. He would be returning to Korea immediate to come and pick Ji Yung up…and to speak with me.

“Mr. Park would like to speak with you about the night you found his daughter and about the incident in general. He’ll be here early tomorrow morning.”  The nurse walked out.

“I’ll run back to the apartment and get you something nice to wear.” Chanelle grabbed her purse and walked out, leaving me with Ji Yung…and with a lot of questions.