Looking tidy, nice and smiling, Nam Joo positioned herself confidently in front of the house's porch, waiting to be received.
Although the place looked abandoned and a bit spooky from the outside, some evidence made her convinced that there was no danger to be expected from the property's residents. A boyfriend's swing, lace curtains, a charming weathervane on the roof, a shelf with little plants in their pots, now withering or being parasitized by weed... It was definitely a house of loving, receptive people.
Maybe they were having financial difficulties, or someone was very sick. That was what Nam Joo could think at the time. Her eyes ran all the time to the trees where pomegranates hung like tinted globe lamps, fat and heavy. But her upbringing would not allow her to pick them up without asking first, so she stood resolute in her position.
