Don't Cross the Line

“Gaon, we’re free. Free!” My mother, who had walked me out to the front door, screamed and ran toward me, pulling me into a joyful embrace. Both of us had been counting down the days until my father’s business trip. To put it simply, my father’s business was prospering more and more each day, leading him to expand his factories overseas. Given my father’s personality—someone who couldn't trust a single soul—there was no way he would return from his trip until everything was perfectly finalized. That meant we had three months of freedom. “We’re in luck. The tenant moved out just in time. Go there and live comfortably to your heart's content for three months.” Thanks to the lies I told my ...