Episode 1
656 Words
It was a beautiful evening in the city of Seoul. The Han River shimmered under the soft golden lights, reflecting the skyline like a painting that refused to fade. A gentle breeze brushed against my face as I stood near the river park, lost in my thoughts.
It has been almost two years since I moved to this unfamiliar city — a different country, a different language, a different life. Somehow, I adjusted. Somehow, I learned to survive. Most days, I hardly miss home.
But today was different.
Today is the birthday of my most important human.
That’s why we’re celebrating near the river park. And somehow my heart feels heavier than usual.
A tear slipped down before I could stop it. I quickly wiped it away with the back of my hand.
That’s when I felt something soft brush against my leg.
I looked down.
A tiny ball of white fur was rubbing against me, wagging its tail like we were old friends. A puppy. Small. Fluffy. Adorable.
I bent down and gently patted him.
“Hey… where are your parents? What are you doing here alone?”
I looked around. Families were scattered across the park, couples sitting by the river, joggers passing by — but no one seemed to be looking for a lost puppy.
I picked him up carefully and walked around, scanning faces, hoping someone would panic at the sight of their missing dog.
Nothing.
“Should I take you home?” I whispered.
“No… no. Let’s wait for a while.”
I checked the time.
I still had to go pick up my birthday baby soon.
“What should I do?” I muttered. “What should I do?”
That’s when I noticed a small tag on his collar. A phone number.
Should I call?
No… calling feels awkward.
Texting would be easier. But writing in Korean still makes me nervous. I’m fluent when I speak, but typing? I overthink every word.
After a few seconds of hesitation, I decided to text in English.
I sent a message along with the puppy’s picture:
Hi, I found your dog near Han River Park. Could you please come pick him up? I’ll send you the location.
Within minutes, a reply came.
Thank you. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.
I took a taxi to the location and waited.
Exactly half an hour later, a man appeared.
He was dressed entirely in black — black hoodie, black jeans, black cap pulled low over his face. A mask covered everything except his eyes.
Only his eyes were visible.
Sharp. Observant. Calm.
He stopped a few feet away from me and spoke in English.
“Where is my puppy?”
His voice was deep. Controlled.
“Your puppy is with me,” I replied carefully. “But how do I know he’s yours? Do you have proof?”
He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture. The same puppy. In what looked like a living room, playing with a toy.
“Now do you believe me?” he asked.
I crossed my arms.
“That picture could be from the internet.”
For a split second, I saw his eyes narrow.
He muttered something under his breath in Korean — probably thinking I wouldn’t understand.
“She must be crazy…”
I almost rolled my eyes.
Then he spoke again, this time clearly.
“There’s a cherry blossom symbol engraved next to the number on his collar. Check it.”
I looked down. He was right.
He stepped closer, scanning the area.
“I don’t see my puppy anywhere,” he said sharply. “Do you really have him? Or are you trying to scam me? Tell me where he is right now, or I’m calling the police.”
Excuse me?
Before I could respond —
A small voice came from behind me.
“Mummy… can we keep this puppy?”
- Writer
