Min Hiku entered.
Her white hair was tied in a severe bun. She stopped in the center of the room, completely ignoring Salin, as if he were a piece of tasteless decoration she intended to have thrown out later.
Her eyes, dark and identical to Jun-ho's, focused only on her grandson. And then, to Salin's surprise, she smiled.
— They told me chaos had set in — Her voice was calm. — But I see order.
She walked to Jun-ho's desk, running her fingers along the wood.
— How do you know, Grandma?
— That doesn't matter. It was five years... — She murmured, looking at Jun-ho with approval. — Your father, Kun, allowed that woman, that So Yong, to sleep with his own son for five years in his own house. He was blind.
She approached Jun-ho and touched his shoulder. It wasn't an affectionate grandmotherly touch; it was a touch recognizing power.
