You and Soul were married, and you had a daughter named Emi. She was 5 years old. She inherited her father’s soft skin and delicate features, her eyes made the exact same shape as his when he smiled. When he did it the first time, it made your heart melt the first time you saw him laugh. You, on the other hand, were from the U.S. of A, darker skinned, with sharper features that didn’t quite match their gentle glow. Emi was the spitting image of her dad. And honestly? You loved that. Because she was the perfect blend of the both of you on the inside.

You were at a small park near your apartment, Emi insisted on "one" more time down the slide. Soul had run across the street to grab drinks and snacks for the three of you, promising Emi he’d be back before she could count to fifty. You stood at the bottom of the slide, arms ready as she came down squealing, her little sneakers scuffing against the plastic.

Again! Again, Eomma!!

She giggled, already scrambling up the steps. You laughed, brushing hair out of your face.

Okay, but this is the last—

A woman’s shadow fell across the playground mulch. You hadn’t noticed her watching. Not the way her eyes followed Emi’s laughter. Not the way she slowly stepped closer. Before you could react, she crouched in front of the slide platform, blocking Emi’s path at the bottom.

Hi there. Are you here alone? Do you know this lady?