try begging
When I came out of the bathroom after roughly combing my hair and changing into only my wet underwear, Ellie was already ready to go out and waiting for her mother in front of the front door.
While Grace put on the coat hanging on the wall, Ellie carefully covered the five dolls in the toy cart with blankets, even mimicking her mother's speech.
"It's cold. If I go out like this, will I catch a cold?"
The mother and daughter's first routine each morning was to go to the bakery across the street to buy bread, as Ellie would never eat bread that was more than a day old. Every morning, Ellie would take her favorite dolls in a toy cart, like a mother taking a walk with her baby in a stroller.
"let's go."
The front door opened and the clattering sound of a small cart being dragged echoed through the apartment hallway. As she took the elevator down to the first floor, Grace looked down at the small head wearing a fur hat and smiled happily.
Just two years ago, a child who was so scared of elevators that he cried and said the world was going to end for him is now reaching for the lever and saying he will pull it.
"When I was a baby, I cried and said it was so scary."
How cute it was to hear her babble as if she was complaining. When I brought up the subject again today, like an old man living in old memories, Ellie raised her head and became upset.
"Don't look up!"
"Really? You didn't cry? Then who was the baby that cried back then?"
Grace teased the child more, pinching his cheek as he rolled his feet.
"Ellie is not a baby anymore."
"Really? Isn't that Ellie's baby?"
"No, no. The baby is here."
Ellie pouted and pointed to the dolls sitting closely together on the cart.
"It's a shame. Mom liked grown-up Ellie, but she also liked baby Ellie."
This time Grace stuck out her lips and muttered. At that moment, the turquoise eyes looking up at her wavered, and Ellie hugged Grace's legs tightly and hung on.
"Ellie is a big baby."
Grace picked up her 30-month-old daughter, who was too big and heavy to be a baby. She patted her on the back and whispered to her as if she were a baby.
"My baby, don't grow up too fast."
I was both proud and sad to see her bravely step forward to buy bread on her own. It reminded me of myself when I was younger. I know it's an excessive worry, but I was suddenly afraid that my daughter would follow in my footsteps of growing up too early, wanting to be loved by adults.
Grace pressed her cheek against Ellie's soft cheek and repeated it like a spell.
You stay a baby, because I still love you.
"Hello."
Today, too, a little girl entered the bakery, holding a toy cart in one hand and her mother's hand in the other. The owner, who was just taking out freshly baked bread from the oven, greeted the mother and daughter with a smile.
"The little girl is our first customer today."
As usual, the woman picked up a handful of almonds stewed in sugar and cinnamon from the display case and gave it to Ellie as a gift.
"Have a day as sweet as this almond."
"Wow-."
"Thank you, I should do it."
"I'm touched."
Ellie picked out the largest-looking almond in her tiny hand and held it out to Grace.
"Mom, ah-."
The baby who would always try to steal whatever his mother ate has now grown into a child who puts his food in his mother's mouth.
Today, I bought two freshly baked brioche, soft rolls, and croissants. I was walking home with Ellie, holding the warm paper bags in my arms, when an old woman I had never seen before came into the bakery, leaning on a cane, and smiled brightly at the sight of the child.
"Oh my, so pretty. I thought it was a doll."
I've heard the term "walking doll" over and over again, but I've never gotten tired of it. Grace greeted me with a proud smile.
"thank you."
The old woman looked up at her and the smile on Grace's face faded as she heard what she clearly said without thinking.
"The little angel looks a lot like his father."
At that moment, Ellie tilted her head. Grace quickly greeted him and left, taking the child's hand in hers.
"Then have a nice day."
"By the way, isn't that a face I haven't seen before?"
Before the door closed, the old woman muttered, and soon after, through the closed door, the owner could be faintly heard asking if it was the first time he had seen the mother and daughter who had moved in late spring.
It's been half a year since I moved to the suburbs of a major city in the central region. Before that, I was hiding from that man in the immigrant district of a southern port city.
It was a slum and a crime-ridden area, but it wasn't bad. Grace was able to raise Ellie safely on her own thanks to the help she received from the neighboring women who didn't speak the language well.
However, I couldn't continue raising my daughter, who had grown up this much, in a neighborhood where I could hear her fighting every day. I got bored just raising her at home, so I spent a lot of time with neighborhood women, and this also became a problem when Ellie started speaking a mixture of her native language and a foreign language.
"I can't believe you're going to Mandel Hanaba, ugh. Mom, my mom."
"In Korean, it's not Mandel, it's Almond. And since you're a mom, eat Ellie."
Besides, since she was over two years old, I thought it was a good time to send her to daycare. I needed to make Ellie's little world bigger by letting her meet other people besides her mom.
So, I moved to the suburbs of a big city half a year ago, where there is good public safety and good schools. It is quiet and there is a park nearby, so it is the best place to raise a child.
Plus, my job was just thirty minutes away by tram.
The reason I started working four months ago was, of course, money. I had already used up all the money I made selling gold bars, and I even had to sell a diamond.
If I was going to slowly lose money like this, it would be better to buy a house and settle down, but I couldn't do that because I was still a fugitive. I couldn't just run away and squander the inheritance my mother left me, so I decided to make money.
Settlement would only be possible after escaping to the New World. Really, when are we leaving?
Grace sighed as she entered the apartment building.
She was so sick of what had happened at Newport Harbor that she didn't even dare try. Running away with a child that was as tall as her waist was impossible. And if someone asked her why she was running away and who that old man was, she had nothing to say.
º º º
"Did you know that the maid's bathroom doesn't have hot water? I just didn't want to pour ice-cold water over me."
Today, as he poured ice-cold water over himself, that woman's pitiful hallucinations continued to cruelly torment his mind.
"under...."
Leon locked the door and stepped out of the shower stall, making a mental note.
From tonight onwards, I will go to the bedroom in the main building.
It was as vain as my promise to quit taking medication. The same was true of my promise to move the stroller that stood in the corner of the bedroom.
He headed straight to the dressing room. His body moved on its own, following the habits of more than ten years, and when he came to his senses, he saw in the mirror not a corpse twisted and ready to crumble, but a strong soldier staring at Leon.
At least that's what it looked like on the outside.
He opened the top drawer and took out a bundle of white cloth. When he opened the handkerchief, which had no perfume on it, he saw a baby bonnet. Leon stared down at the bonnet as he had done this morning, buried his nose in it, and took a deep breath.
Faint body odors, so faint they could be called hallucinations, poured into his breathing passages.
If someone who didn't know saw him, they would think he was inhaling drugs. Maybe that's not wrong. Grace and the scent of the child were drugs to him. A momentary ecstasy followed by a terrible sense of loss, wasn't that a drug? The withdrawal symptoms that came and the inability to stop this foolish act were no different from drugs.
Leon folded the bonnet neatly again, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and put it in the inside pocket of his jacket, right where his heart was.
The moment my eyes met with mine in the mirror again, a passage from the letter that I had read so many times that I had memorized every single word and punctuation mark came to mind.
My birthday is May 21st. I'm just like you, sensitive and picky, so you'll have a hard time.
Do you look like me?
This part always made me laugh.
How much? Do their faces look similar?
Leon tried to imagine the face of his daughter, whom he had never seen before, in his own face in the mirror, but it was useless again today. He lowered his gaze to his chest, recalling the moment when he had held Grace in his arms.
We were really this close. I should have hugged you first.
I couldn't see her face properly, but I remember her cheeks were chubby. That alone made her lovely.
I'd be happy to do the hardship you're talking about.
Keep it out of the hands of Blanchard. I know you're a person without a conscience, but if you have any conscience, be kind to the child.
Then give it a chance.
please.
He started a new day again today, like a rat trapped in a wheel, reminiscing about useless regrets. And so he died in place for another day.
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