Dara’s POV

“Ms. Park.”         

I slowly opened my eyes as I heard someone calling me. I blink a couple of times, letting my eyes adjust to the light illuminating from the big chandelier inside the room I’m in.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Park?” said the man standing at the edge of the bed.

I slowly sat up. I winced a bit, but ignored the pain I’m feeling.

I examined the face of the old man. I can say that he’s handsome during his youth despite his old age.

“Who are you?” I asked. I never saw this man before. Why does he know me? Do I owe him something, too? Why am I here?

As I waited for his answer, my eyes wander inside the room. It was huge and only the both of us were inside. Everything in here looks expensive, too. I checked myself, only to find out that my clothes were different from what I’m wearing last night. Then realization hit me. I was with Mr. Song last night.

“I’m Kwon Sonjae. My guards saved you last night.” He managed to say after a long while which take me back to the present. Then I remembered another group of men wearing formal suits who held out their guns to Mr. Song and his gang. I immediately stood up from the bed where I am seated.

“Thank you, Sir. You and your guards saved my life last night.” I said as I bowed to him. I heard him chuckle which make me look up to him.

He smiled at me warmly making me smile at him too.

“You know, you really look like your father.” He suddenly blurted out. I was surprised with his sudden observation. How come he knows my father?

“Y-you know my father?”

“I’m your father’s employer, friend… and somehow a father.” He simply answered.

“E-employer? You mean, he worked for you?”

“Yes.”

“D-did he perhaps owe you a debt that’s why you’re getting back on me?” I felt myself starting to get nervous. I haven’t solved my problem with Mr. Song and now, here comes another.

“N-no, Sandara. It’s the other way around. I’m the one who owes him something-  my life… my family’s life.”

What is he saying to me? How come he owes my father his life and his family’s life?

“I-I’m sorry, Sir. But my father, he died 3 years ago—“

“He died 9 years ago in a shoot-out.”

“W-What? No, you’re mistaken. He died in a car accident.”

“No, the news that came to you was wrong.”

I was silenced when he cut my words. My heart then started to pound wildly.

The last time I saw my father was when I was 10. I thought he was just working somewhere I don’t know. I thought he ran away from us, for he stopped supporting our family. Until one day when I was in the mid of my senior year, someone called to our house saying he died in a car accident. I hated him, because he left us. We weren’t able to see his body, even his grave. That’s when the time things started getting complicated. Few months after that, my mom was diagnosed with heart complications. I stopped studying. I tried working, but my salary was never enough for all our expenses so I end up lending money that even up to now I wasn’t able to pay.

What did really happen to my father? I wanted to asked, but no words came out.

Right then, he answered my unheard question. He sat on the bed, while I sat next to him. He started recalling the events that had happen 9 years ago.

I was quiet all the time, absorbing every detail of his story. I felt my chest tightened, maybe because of guilt. I have hated him for a long time, because I thought he ran away from us. I