I navigate through the winding streets of Seoul's outskirts, the cityscape gradually giving way to a more rural setting. The GPS guides me to a less developed area, where small, modest houses dot the landscape. As I turn onto a narrow dirt road, I spot the house I'm looking for - a shabby structure with peeling paint and a small, unkempt yard.
As I pull up, I notice a woman in the front yard, kneeling among a patch of vegetables. She's petite, with graying hair pulled back in a tight bun. This must be Lee's wife.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's sure to be a difficult conversation. As I approach, the woman looks up, her face lined with weariness and suspicion.
"Excuse me," I call out softly, not wanting to startle her. "Mrs. Lee?"
She stands slowly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes? Who are you?"
