The park was empty when they arrived. The autumn sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the grass. The willow tree stood at the edge of the river, its branches trailing into the water like the fingers of a grieving woman.
Ha-neul stood beneath it, her heart pounding. The map in her hands was simple—a cross marked at the base of the tree, with a single word written in Mr. Ahn's shaky handwriting: Here.
"Help me," she said, handing Jae-won a small trowel she had bought from a hardware store on the way.
They dug in silence. The earth was soft, damp from the morning rain.