For several moments, nobody could speak clearly.
Then Soo-bin looked back toward Nia.
Her voice became small.
"그때 아빠가 꼭 올 거라고 했잖아요."
You said my dad would definitely come that day.
Nia nodded.
"I remember."
The child smiled through tears.
"진짜 왔어요."
He really came.
Nia pressed one hand against her chest.
The words struck her harder than anything Holloway said during dinner.
Three years earlier, she'd promised a frightened little girl that her father was looking for her.
Now that same girl was telling her the promise had come true.
They spoke for nearly twenty minutes.
Soo-bin wanted to know where Nia lived, whether she still sang, and why she disappeared after the subway emergency.
Nia explained about her mother's illness and returning to America.
The child listened seriously.
Then asked whether Denise was feeling better.
Nia smiled.
"Yes. Much better than before."
Soo-bin looked relieved.
Then she asked something that made everyone laugh.
"미국에 가면 같이 노래할 수 있어요?"
If I come to America, can we sing together?
Nia nodded.
"I'd like that."
Min-jae watched silently.
His daughter hadn't spoken with such excitement about a stranger in years.
Since her mother's death, she'd become careful with people, sometimes withdrawing when situations felt unfamiliar or overwhelming.
Now she was laughing.
Asking questions.
And talking about visiting America.
The transformation wasn't miraculous.
Soo-bin had recovered gradually through family support, professional care, and the ordinary work of growing older after loss.
But Nia represented one of the moments when the child learned that kindness could still arrive unexpectedly.
Min-jae understood that.
And he was grateful beyond anything a financial offer could express.
Before ending the call, Soo-bin asked whether Nia remembered the song.
Nia smiled.
"Of course."
The little girl began humming the familiar melody.
Nia joined her for a brief moment.
Min-jae looked away.
He was remembering his wife.
How she used to sing while preparing breakfast.
How Soo-bin would imitate her.
And how the house had fallen painfully silent after her death.
For the first time in years, the song carried more warmth than sorrow.
After the call, Min-jae remained seated.
Nia reached for a tissue.
Her hands were trembling.
For several moments, they said nothing.
Then the businessman looked toward her.
"I've spent years wondering what I would say if I ever met you."
Nia smiled faintly.
"You've already said enough."
He shook his head.
"I don't think so."
He leaned forward.