“And then she went back to Seoul?” I asked, then cursed myself silently. Maybe it was best that I didn’t know. But I was here. I had to ask every question I could think of, because I would never get this chance again.

Mrs. Rhee shook her head sadly. “She died two weeks later. Blood poisoning, they said.”

“Sepsis,” Landon said softly.

Mrs. Rhee nodded. “Yes. But she loved you.”

My gaze went back to the box on the floor. She was dead. Not that I’d ever been on a mission to find her, but now that mission would never be possible. It felt as though someone had opened a window in a room I thought previously solid, only to find the view was of a brick wall.

The conflicting emotions gave me whiplash.

My mother hadn’t given me up because she was too young, or unwed—though she’d been both. It hadn’t been a cultural dictate, or a personal choice. She’d never been given the option to raise me.

Something about that both killed me—knowing that I would never know more—and yet gave me a sense of peace. I wasn’t unwanted. I’d been loved from the moment I was born, and when my mother could no longer love me, Mom and Dad stepped in and carried through.

“Did she ever mention my father?” I asked.

Mrs. Rhee’s eyebrows rose. “She described him as someone who was never meant to stay.”

My hands cupped the now chilly teacup. “And then my parents came? Adopted me? I know I was really young.”

“You were. It was the fastest I have ever handed a child over—yet another reason I remembered you. But I placed a call the day after your mother died, and you were gone soon after.”

“And now you’re a girls’ school, not an orphanage?”

“Now we educate young women, some of whom are orphans, but we no longer care for babies here.” She glanced up at the clock and gave me a tight smile. Our time was limited.

My brain scrambled, trying to think of anything to ask. A thousand questions went through my mind, but they all seemed trivial, and everything about this woman told me she didn’t have time for trivial.

“How is your funding?” Landon asked.

Her brows lifted in surprise. “We can always use more.”

“I’ll see that you get it,” he promised.

She inclined her head but made no other response.

“What was she like, my mother?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Her features softened, and she reached for my hand. “A lot like you. But something tells me you are a lot stronger. She would be proud of your courage in coming here, happy that your parents have cared for you so well.” Her eyes dropped to the table and then back to mine. “Your mother—your American mother—was so overjoyed to hold you. Scared, but I remember thinking that you would be okay.”

I swallowed, emotion clogging my throat. “I am. I’m okay. I have a wonderful family.” That’s currently falling apart.

“Good. She never would have done that to her hair, though.” She motioned to my highlights, and I smiled.

A young girl came through the door speaking rapid-fire Korean, which Mrs. Rhee answered.

“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Rhee told us. “I am needed with the girls. Have you gotten what you came for?”

“Yes,” I said, my eyes flickering back to the box. “More, really.”

We said our good-byes, and I tried to memorize every detail about the house, the yard, even the street as Landon loaded the box into the back of the SUV. I grabbed my camera from the front seat and started snapping dozens of pictures.

“Do you want to stay for the night?” he offered as I photographed the house.

“No,” I said quietly, lowering the camera. “I don’t think there’s anything more here for me. Do you think we can make it back to the Athena?”

He glanced at his watch. “It will be late, but we can make it.”

“Let’s go,” I said, taking one last look at my birthplace. He kissed my forehead and helped me into my seat. With my nerves scraped raw, it made me feel cared for, cherished.

I was quiet on the drive, and Landon filled the silence with music, occasionally lifting my hand to kiss the back of it. He gave me the quiet and the space I needed while my mind spun in circles.

He took care of everything—made every arrangement as we returned the SUV and headed to the plane. No security. No TSA. Just Landon, me, and the box that carried the ghost of the woman who gave me life but whom I would never know.

I buckled my belt and held his hand as we took off, the plane lurching into the sky to carry us back to the Athena.

“How do you feel?” he asked, finally breaking the silence once we’d reached cruising altitude.

“Like me,” I said, meeting his worried gaze. “Like me, but somehow more.”

He brushed my hair back and kissed my forehead tenderly. “What can I do?”

“Can you grab the box?” I asked. “I kind of want to go through it now. If not, it might sit there until I think I’m brave enough to open it, and that will have made the trip feel like a waste.”

“Sure thing,” he said, unbuckling. “Why don’t you come back here? There’s more room.”

I unbuckled and followed him, sitting on the floor in front of the small couch.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and rose up on my knees to undo the folded sides that kept the box closed. A quick pull and it was open.