He knew how devoid of affection his mother was, and how she manipulated everyone around her to suit her whims. Kang-woo had long suspected that his older brother’s divorce was also her handiwork.
That was precisely why he felt uneasy about the frequent clashes between Choi Kyung-hye and Han Na-eun. If Na-eun kept butting heads with Kyung-hye, it would be impossible for her to stay by Minho’s side. As Kang-woo held his tongue, Kyung-hye spoke up.
“In that case, why not just get that teacher a house and send Minho there?”
But even that was unreliable in more ways than one. As soon as the words slipped out, Kyung-hye seemed to realize the impracticality and shook her head.
“He is the eldest grandson of the Choi family; we can’t have that.”
Kang-woo sighed.
“I will handle it myself. She might refuse to come as a live-in tutor, after all.”
At the mention that she might decline, Kyung-hye grew surprisingly eager.
“Is that so? Then, since there are at least three rooms on the first floor of the annex, should we tell her to stay there?”
Her mind had already shifted. Kang-woo knew his mother well. Kyung-hye disliked anything that was a hassle and refused to acknowledge anything that wasn’t the best. Thus, even if it were her grandson, a frail child suffering from something like selective mutism was outside the scope of her interest. However, if there were someone she could install to live with him and provide care, she would send him off without hesitation. She must have calculated that as long as it was within the walls of their estate, it would prevent gossip and be all the better.
Chairman Choi, sitting beside her, said expressionlessly:
“Is she that decent of a person?”
His father’s tone was as cold as if they were discussing a business recruitment. Kang-woo averted his gaze and answered calmly.
“I am looking into it.”
Kang-woo replied as he usually did, his voice stripped of all emotion. Chairman Choi, arms crossed, rubbed his chin and asked:
“What about her husband?”
Kang-woo’s reply was short and firm.
“It seems she has no husband.”
While he kept his words brief, Kyung-hye sat by, listening to their exchange without a word. A subtle sense of tension flickered across her face.
Chairman Choi let out a cynical laugh and nodded.
“I suppose. That would explain why you’d suggest she move in.”
He turned his head to look at Kang-woo and added, as if he hadn’t heard that Kang-woo had not yet made the offer:
“What kind of woman is she?”
Kang-woo explained in a dry voice.
“I told you, she’s a kindergarten teacher. A single mother.”
At Kang-woo’s nonchalant answer, Kyung-hye turned to look at him, appearing surprised.
“A single mother? Tsk!”
A clicking sound escaped her lips. She seemed to be chewing over the news, mindful of the Chairman. Kang-woo offered a cold smile at his parents’ reaction and shrugged.
“Mother. I am not bringing home a daughter-in-law. I am bringing in a teacher for Minho. I intend to start by making the offer. She might refuse.”
Chairman Choi looked at Kang-woo, expressionless and lost in thought. They continued their conversation with the coldness of a superior and a subordinate, while Kyung-hye kept her lips pressed tightly shut.
To Kyung-hye, Minho was an eldest grandson who was embarrassing to show to the public. Selective mutism. It sounded mild, but others might simply think he was mute. Considering the extravagant first-birthday party they’d thrown for him, the current Minho was a source of nothing but disappointment.
But since Minho carried the Choi bloodline, he possessed a sharp enough mind; if he could talk again and lead a normal life, he would be an incredible asset. It was an investment she was more than willing to fund.
Thinking this, Kyung-hye urged Kang-woo.
“Fine. Tell her we’ll pay her whatever she wants. As long as she gets Minho to speak and enables him to lead a normal life, we can even cover all the tuition for her own child.”
Kang-woo shook his head.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Not for three years, but until Minho grows up here…”
“Mother!”
Kang-woo called out in a heavy voice. He knew all too well her tendency to overreach, wanting to control every variable.
“Let’s take it one step at a time. I’ll go to work now.”
***
Kang-woo arrived at his office late and began looking over the documents brought to him by his secretary, Dowan.
“Representative, here is the additional information on teacher Han Na-eun that you requested.”
As Dowan handed over the files, Kang-woo reviewed them carefully. A photo of Na-eun, with her fair face and hair slightly shorter than it was now, was attached, with her history and personal details listed beside it.
“She gave birth right after graduating university. And yet, she doesn’t know who the father is? Does that even make sense?”
“Indeed. I don’t know. There isn’t a man she was dating.”
Kang-woo clicked his tongue.
“That makes even less sense. Is your investigative ability lacking?”
“There really isn’t anyone. She gave birth one day without leaving a single trace.”
“Well. That’s astonishing.”
It was strange. Everything else was perfectly ordinary. She had graduated from a junior college with a degree in early childhood education, obtained a Level 1 Childcare Teacher Certificate, and worked at a kindergarten. Currently, she lived alone with her child.
“What about her mother and sister?”
“They live elsewhere, sir. In a villa much nicer than where Han Na-eun currently resides.”
At Dowan’s words, Kang-woo muttered without much emotion.
“Is it because she’s a stepdaughter? Her mother should be taking care of the daughter with a child, yet she’s taking care of her celebrity daughter instead.”
“Yes. Han Na-Young makes occasional appearances on sports channels, but her broadcast income likely isn’t much. It seems she lives off money from sponsors. She keeps company with many men as well.”
He knew exactly what that meant. It meant she was earning money with a pretty face and a body to match.
“I see. Every family has its stories, but this one is quite pathetic.”
Kang-woo muttered, looking out the window.
Han Na-eun. Her father died when she was in high school, and after living with her stepmother and the daughter her stepmother had given birth to, she had a child, became a kindergarten teacher, and raised the kid alone. She barely had any contact with her stepmother, Park Misuk, or her sister, Ha-young.
“With these circumstances, she might actually agree if I asked her to come.”
For some reason, the woman with the white face and the smile that seemed to melt like cotton candy struck him as pitiable.
***
A visitor arrived at the kindergarten. Na-eun, having been called to the director’s office, was introduced to someone by the bowing and scraping director.
“This person is our kindergarten’s university board chairwoman. So, hurry and greet her. This is Chairwoman Choi Kyung-hye.”
A board chairwoman? Why on earth would someone so high-ranking come here? And why was she being asked to greet her? Even in her bewilderment, she offered a polite greeting.
“Hello. I’m Han Na-eun.”
“So, you are the one looking after our Minho?”
Our Minho? Na-eun looked puzzled for a moment, and Kyung-hye spoke.
“I am Minho’s grandmother.”
Minho’s grandmother, whom she had never seen before.
“Oh, I see. Hello.”
“I heard that since the nanny who usually took care of him was ill, our second son came to pick him up a few times.”
If it was the second son, that must have been that man. So, this was that man’s mother.
“Yes, he did come.”
“I am here to thank you.”
Na-eun responded appropriately to Kyung-hye, who kept speaking in riddles.
“There is nothing to be thankful for.”
“I heard Minho talks to you?”
At Kyung-hye’s words, Na-eun nodded and spoke carefully.
“Ah, yes. Minho talks well with me.”
“Minho won’t even make eye contact with me. But I heard he makes eye contact with you, looks at your face, and even talks to you, so I came because I was so grateful.”
“It’s alright. It is simply part of my job.”
At Na-eun’s words, Kyung-hye looked at her with a different expression. Usually, when someone of the level of a board chairwoman offered praise, people would try to make a show of it, but she was showing humility instead. Kyung-hye wondered internally if this was a calculated move or if she was truly this kind, and she asked as if to probe further.
“Teacher Han Na-eun, is there anything you would like me to do for you? You’ve been so good to our Minho, I’d like to do something for you in return.”
Seeing Kyung-hye standing upright, as if she would grant anything she asked, Na-eun thought for a moment before opening her mouth.
“It might be a bit difficult, but would that be okay?”
Oh?
“Tell me anything.”
At that, Na-eun recalled the plan she had suggested to the director several times, only to be rejected due to budget issues.
“Actually, that space at the end of the hallway—if we just put a little work into it, we could turn it into an indoor play area where the children can run around to their hearts’ content. When the weather is nice, they can play outside freely, but when it rains or gets cold, they are stuck in the classrooms. I think it would be great to have a play space where they can just romp around, rather than a gymnasium.”
Kyung-hye was momentarily dumbfounded. She wondered if this woman was lacking in some way. She had offered to grant anything the woman wanted, and she was only talking about a play area for kindergarten kids?
“Is that so important?”
“Yes. It is important to the children. I would love it if there were sand and perhaps small trampolines, too. It would be wonderful for the children to be able to run and play to their hearts’ content and vent their energy.”