YOO-MI’s POV
“What do you mean?” I asked Mr. Park as he waved his hand dismissing me, telling me to leave.
After an exhausted 12-hour flight from Seoul to Los Angeles, I took a cab and went straight here in Sunset Boulevard, in the apartment that I booked back in Seoul only to be driven away by my supposed to be landlord, Mr. Park because he gave my apartment to someone else.
“I’m sorry Miss Kim, I will just return your money.” He said making me drop my head in my hands and let out a cry.
“I don’t know this place,” I choked. “I just came here to find the father of my daughter. She’s sick and I—we need him. I need to find him.”
“I’m sorry.” That’s what all he said before giving me back my money and left.
I felt alone and helpless as I slid my body down on the floor, leaning my head on the wall. What would I do now?
After 20 minutes of just staying like that and processing and analysing everything, I finally stood up and made my way out of the building.