I fell asleep on the couch, exhausted, with the TV still on.
The next morning, I was awakened by insistent knocking on the door.
I groaned, still half asleep. Who could it be? Min-Soo? Mrs. Park?
I opened the door, my eyes still puffy with sleep.
And my blood ran cold.
The man standing on the landing... I knew him. I hadn't seen him in eight years, but I would recognize him anywhere.
It was my father.
All my fatigue vanished, replaced by a pure, instinctive rage. Before he could even open his mouth, I punched him.
My fist flew on its own. A direct hit, loaded with eight years of anger and abandonment.
The man was completely surprised. He didn't have time to react. The blow hit him square in the chest, sending him flying backward. He tumbled down the stairs and crashed onto the hood of a car parked below, setting off its alarm.
I walked down, trembling with fury.
