Chapter 1: The Outburst
SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA
Family dinners had always been a love of Ruth Lee's, but tonight was different. The silence was choking, the type that made one wish she'd asked for her meal to be sent up to her room. As it was, she was stuck with her father, Peter Lee, and older brother, Frank Xia, both their expressions as grim as the gray skies of the monsoon season.
Something was wrong. Ruth could feel it. She'd seen this before: her father's brooding stares, Frank's curt responses, the two of them holing up in Peter's study for hours. And always, always, Ruth felt left out, the child deliberately kept in the dark. She hated it.
"Is something wrong with the company?" Ruth asked diffidently. She laid her chopsticks down and regarded the two men on either side of her. At twenty-four, she felt she had a right to know what went on in the family's multibillion-dollar tech empire.
Her father's face eased into a forced smile. "No, sweetheart, all is well. Why do you ask?
"Because you've both been acting weird. Frank won't even talk to me," she said, throwing a pointed look at her brother.
Frank smirked and reached over to ruffle her hair, a gesture she despised. "Don't overthink, Ruth."
"Seriously? That's your answer?" Ruth pushed his hand away and crossed her arms. "You two are terrible at hiding things."
Peter dabbed his mouth with a napkin and motioned for one of the staff to clear his barely touched plate. He always loved kimchi jjigae, but tonight he'd barely taken a bite. That alone set off alarm bells in Ruth's mind.
"How about this? For your birthday tomorrow, let's take a trip to Japan. A vacation. You've been asking for one," Peter said, his tone overly casual.
Ruth froze. Japan? Her father never mentioned spontaneous trips, let alone for her birthday. Besides, she had spent weeks planning her celebration in Seoul, and the invitations were already out.
Her father barely spoke of Japan; it was taboo in their household. They hadn't gone back since leaving all those years ago, and now, out of nowhere, he wanted to send her? It didn't compute.
"Are you out of your mind?" Ruth asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Of course. You have been working hard; it will do you good," Peter replied, but the cracks in his calm facade were all too evident.
Ruth leaned back in her chair, picked up her chopsticks again, and pretended to continue eating. "I'll pass. You know how much I've been looking forward to my birthday party. Everyone that is anybody in the socialite circle will be there. The invitations have already gone out. I'm not about to cancel because you're feeling. whatever this is."
Peter's jaw clenched, and Frank's smirk fell.
"Ruth," Frank said, his voice razor-sharp. "Watch your tone."
"Oh, don't start with me," Ruth shot back. "And Dad, do you know how ridiculous this sounds? You've never mentioned Japan before, and now you want me to drop everything? No, thanks."
Peter's hand came down hard on the table, reverberating around the dining room. "You will go to Japan tomorrow. Frank will accompany you."
The command in his voice quickened her heartbeat. Her father never yelled-not even when she had driven his car into their front gate at sixteen years old. But now? He was yelling?
Ruth's shock morphed into anger. "Are you serious right now?" she said, standing up. "You always do this-shoving me aside whenever something big happens. You think I'm too stupid to handle it? Or is it just easier to treat me like some clueless little girl?"
"Ruth, that's not-" Peter began, but she cut him off.
"Don't. Don't try to placate me with your sweet words. You always say it's for my own good, but you never explain anything! Do you even trust me, Dad? Or am I just bad luck to you?"
"You're not bad luck," Peter said, his voice softer now. "But this is for your safety. You don't understand—"
"Then tell me!" Ruth choked out. She despised the way the threat of tears pricked her eyes, yet refused to spill. "Tell me what's going on!"
There was dead silence on Peter's side.
Ruth let out a cynical laugh. "I knew it." Ruth tore off the napkin on her lap and slung it on the table before marching out of the dining room.
Frank called after her, but she didn't stop. She was done listening to excuses and half-truths, and if they weren't going to treat her like an adult, then she had nothing more to say to them.
She slammed her bedroom door shut and leaned against it, her chest heaving. Hot tears streamed down her face as she slid to the floor. Why did they always do this to her? Why did they always shut her out?
A knock came at the door a few minutes later.
"Go away," Ruth muttered, wiping at her cheeks.
"Ruth, it's me," Frank said from the other side.
"I don't care. Leave me alone."
There was a pause. "I know you're upset, but Dad's just trying to protect you."
Ruth let out a bitter laugh. "Protect me from what, Frank? From reality? I'm not a child. I deserve to know what's going on."
"You'll understand someday," he said, his tone softer now. "Just. eat something, okay? Maria's bringing your plate up."
Ruth said nothing. She waited until she heard the footsteps retreat before she turned in. She sat with her knees tucked to her chest and stared at the ceiling as her mind reeled on.
She would make amends tomorrow, she lied to herself. After all, tomorrow was her birthday. But deep down, she knew this fight wasn't over. Not by a long shot.