DH ✦ Ch 2

✦ Chapter 2 ✦

❦

Outside the hospital, the seat was a quiet bench.

Gayoung’s gaze, which had been lingering blankly on the gray clouds, dropped helplessly to the ground.

“Aigo, aigo-oh…”

Beside her, Soonhee sat sniffling, her soft sobs trickling out like a funeral dirge.

A week ago, they’d expected the perfect day. That hope had been nothing but a delusion—just a fleeting flash before plunging into the pit of despair.

Her uncle Kim Bongman and aunt Yoon Soonhee had been in a car accident.

Upon hearing that a taxi to Columbia University would cost $120, the couple panicked and went searching for a free airport bus.

But with no English skills, they couldn’t even find the bus stop. They kept wandering further away from the airport until Bongman spotted a moving bus and shouted “Stop!” while running into the road. Apparently, he’d mistaken a New York airport bus for a countryside shuttle in Gangwon Province.

By the time Gayoung arrived at the hospital, Bongman was unconscious with a fractured left arm. Soonhee had bruises on her forearm.

The bus company took no responsibility, and instead, Bongman was suspected of being a potential terrorist. It was only through luck and Gayoung’s explanation that the police decided to show leniency.

The one saving grace was that Bongman woke up after half a day. He had merely fainted from the shock, and there was no brain damage.

His emergency surgery for the fractured arm went well, and Soonhee recovered completely after two days of physical therapy.

During their weeklong hospital stay, the couple remained incredibly upbeat.

“American hospitals are so big and nice.”

“This is real sightseeing. No tour can beat this.”

They giggled while exploring the pristine facilities of the large hospital. They were completely naïve about the U.S. healthcare system.

Then came today, a week later.

While walking toward the billing desk to complete the discharge paperwork, Soonhee tried to reassure Gayoung, saying she had savings and not to worry about the hospital fees.

But the moment she held the bill in her hands, her expression twisted in horror.

“Gayoung, did I read this right?”

If there’s one humane thing about the U.S. healthcare system, it’s that emergency patients are treated first. But its inhumanity lies in the way the cost of that care can utterly destroy the lives of the poor.

$530,000.

Ambulance, brain scans, surgery for the fracture, physical therapy, and hospitalization—all adding up to around 700 million won for just a week.

“Oh god, oh no, what kind of place is this? This is highway robbery. What are we going to do…?”

Soonhee’s crying had not stopped for thirty minutes since she saw the number printed on that bill.

Gayoung had anticipated this the moment she rushed to the hospital. She had even felt a deep shame at worrying more about the cost than her relatives’ health.

She shook off the looming despair with all her might.

“Auntie, it’s okay. Uncle got the treatment he needed, and that’s what matters.”

“But what about the 700 million won? Are we going to jail? Is that what’s going to happen, Gayoung?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

What happens if you can’t pay a hospital bill? Her understanding was that her aunt and uncle would be barred from leaving the country, forced to find under-the-table work as undocumented immigrants, living out the rest of their lives as slaves to their medical debt.

She couldn’t tell them that directly. Nor could she break down and cry like Soonhee.

Because if she fell apart too, her aunt and uncle would have no one left to lean on in this unfamiliar land. So she smiled—she forced herself to smile—and resolved to be their strength.

“I’ll find a way to pay the bill, so don’t worry.”

“How could you possibly come up with that much money?”

“There are lots of benefits for students here. I’ll check if I can use insurance or take out a loan. And most of my friends come from wealthy families. I could borrow it from them.”

“Really? That’s possible?”

“Of course. Haven’t you heard of American billionaires who donate over 10 billion won a year? For them, 700 million is nothing.”

It was an empty bluff, said only to reassure Soonhee. There was no one in Gayoung’s life who would hand over such a large sum.

“If only someone like that would help us… oh god…”

Soonhee used to say begging was shameful. But in the face of this crushing despair, all she could hope for was the charity of some kind-hearted rich person.

Her eyes were soaked with tears. Gayoung held back her own urge to cry and wrapped an arm around her aunt’s shoulders.

“I’ll take care of it, so don’t say anything to Uncle.”

“I won’t. If he found out, he’d wail even louder than me.”

Knowing her uncle, he might even try to re-break his own arm just to argue that the treatment was unnecessary. He’d probably throw a tantrum that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but him.

Amused for a fleeting second by this absurd image, Gayoung gave a bitter smile and gently wiped her aunt’s tears with her sleeve.

“Auntie, you should stop crying now.”

“We should’ve just taken a taxi. We did something stupid, didn’t we… snff…”

“What’s done is done. Let’s forget about it, okay?”

“I feel so sorry, making you carry this burden when you’re already struggling with school… sob…”

They were good people. Everyone back home said the couple could live without the law, because they were so honest and decent.

“I am who I am now thanks to you and Uncle.”

They had taken her in like their own child when she had nowhere to go. Gayoung owed them a debt she could never repay. So she would never, ever let them suffer in this foreign land.

Gayoung held the sobbing Soonhee tightly in her arms.

“It’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay.”

A few hours later, Gayoung was hurrying across a quiet campus.

Her first stop was the campus bank to ask about student loans—but the response crushed her hopes.

“You can borrow up to $15,000.”

About 20 million won. With the hospital charging 10 million won a day, that was barely enough for chewing gum after a steak dinner.

She wondered if a professor might co-sign a loan or help send her aunt and uncle back to Korea. She headed to her advisor’s office.

“He’s on vacation in Key West. We can’t reach him either,” the assistant said, only adding to her despair.

Dragging her feet as she left the business school, she thought hard about who might lend her 700 million won.

If only she’d been nicer to the rich kids. Why had she looked down on them? Why didn’t she even bother talking to them? Now that she was in this situation, her pride felt sickening.

Clenching her teeth, she picked up her phone.

She considered calling Gavin—the guy who’d been pursuing her for two years.

Should she say: “I’ll date you. Just ask your rich parents to lend me $530,000.”

Even she found the thought ridiculous. But her finger accidentally dialed his number.

“Well, well. The ice princess is actually calling me? What’s up?”

The sound of his smug voice made the words stuck in her throat impossible to say.

“Sorry, wrong number.”

She hung up, only to immediately regret it.

That damned pride. Why did it still matter?

But even if she set her pride aside, it wouldn’t solve anything. Who would lend 700 million won to a girlfriend? That kind of money wasn’t something people lent—even to family.

“Aaah…”

Gayoung covered her face with her hands and collapsed on the ground.

She felt like she was going insane. There were no answers, but she had to find one. If there were a solution in hell, she’d gladly dive in. But hell wasn’t even in sight.

Time passed meaninglessly.

The sun disappeared behind Manhattan’s towering buildings. The city grew dark. The roads buzzed with the noise of rush-hour traffic.

Gayoung stood up after crouching for so long.

She decided to visit the hospital and at least get some food for her aunt. After that, she’d think of another plan. There had to be something. There had to be.

As the streetlights and neon signs flickered to life, and she walked through the crowded sidewalks, something caught her eye.

It was a large sedan, stopped at a red light.

By chance, she noticed the man in the driver’s seat, looking out the window.

He wasn’t looking at her. He hadn’t seen her. But she saw him clearly, as if through a magnifying glass.

Why?

It felt like a lifeline had descended into the ruins.

No, that didn’t quite describe it. There were no clear thoughts—just a primal, instinctive urge: I have to grab that rope.

That man.

She took a step forward, but the light turned green, and the car started moving.

Gayoung ran after it. As if she’d fall into an abyss if she lost that rope—desperately, at full speed.

But no matter how madly she ran, she couldn’t catch the car.

As she stood stuck at a red light, she glued her eyes to the retreating vehicle.

She saw it stop in front of a hotel across the intersection. It was barely a speck in the distance, but her desperation sharpened her vision.

Gayoung bolted in that direction like the wind.