Her name was Go Yeong-hwa.
I found it through the district property registry, which was public and accessible and which listed her as the registered leaseholder of the building at the northern ward address for eleven years running. The name settled into the investigation's architecture the way all names did when you found them — it made the shape of the person more precise without changing what you had already understood about them.
I went back the following week. Not to the lending operation. To the tea house two streets over, where the district school's afternoon crowd regularly appeared between the third and fourth hours, when the school day released its students in stages. I had noted this pattern on the second visit and confirmed it on the fourth.
