The family finally settled on the floor of Linda's room. The air was heavy, thick with things that had been buried for years. Mr. Lee sat across from her, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed on her face as if he were afraid to look away.
After a long silence, he spoke.
"The name of your biological father was Harrison."
Linda's breath caught, her fingers tightening against the fabric of her clothes with anxiety.
"Your father and I were not only business partners," Mr. Lee continued quietly, "we were close friends. We met at the University of Oxford in London. From the first year, we were inseparable."
He smiled faintly at the memory, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"At that time, your grandfather, Mr. Olu, was managing the family business he inherited from his own father. But Harrison… your father… he was different. While others lived on allowances, he worked countless part-time jobs. The money his father sent him, he saved almost all of it."
Linda listened, her heart slowly sinking.
"After two years of saving, he started a small business. By the time we graduated, it had already grown. When he returned to Nigeria, his father was so proud of him that he supported him however he could. Years later, that small business became a powerful company. Harrison didn't stop there, he also helped his father expand the family business. Together, they built two of the biggest companies in the country."
Mr. Lee paused, his jaw tightening.
"But Marcus, his younger brother, was different. He had no direction, no purpose. A cultist. Careless one at that. Since Harrison already had his own company, your grandfather decided to hand the family business to Marcus instead."
Linda frowned. "And my father…?" She asked.
"He never complained," Mr. Lee said softly. "He was happy for his brother. He trusted him."
His voice grew heavier.
"But Marcus destroyed everything. He ran the company into the ground. The stress was too much for your grandfather. He didn't survive the blow."
"Harrison worked even harder after that," Mr. Lee went on. "He rebuilt. He turned his company into an empire. Around that time, I was managing my own business. One day, your father called me. He asked me to join him and promised to make me the biggest shareholder in one of his major companies."
He let out a slow breath.
"I accepted. But it was when I arrived in Nigeria, he finally told me the truth. He was afraid of Marcus. His brother had lost everything and came back, pretending to help, but he was stealing, secretly selling shares behind his back."
Linda's nails dug into her palms.
"He told me he needed someone he could trust with his life. That was why I came."
Mr. Lee's voice softened.
"At that time, your father had just married your mother, Sara. It took two years before she became pregnant. When you were born… he was the happiest man I had ever seen."
Linda's eyes blurred.
"You were only one month old," Mr. Lee said, his voice breaking, "when Marcus attacked your father. His own blood."
Linda gasped.
"Your mother escaped with the help of the gatekeeper. She ran to me, holding you, begging me to save you, to take you far away. She knew Marcus wouldn't stop."
Tears streamed freely now.
"My life was also in danger. That same night, I left Nigeria with you on your father's private jet. Your mother went back, to try and save her only sister that was staying with her then."
Mr. Lee lowered his head.
"Marcus was too powerful. And I was just a stranger in Nigeria."
The room was silent except for quiet sobs.
"I arrived home with a one-month-old baby," he continued. "No wife. No family. An orphanage was not an option. I had no woman around me to help, and I don't know anything about taking care of a baby ."
Mrs. Lee squeezed Linda's hand.
"One afternoon, you cried nonstop," Mr. Lee said. "You wouldn't drink milk. Nothing I did worked. Then there was a knock on the door."
His eyes lifted, softening as he looks at his wife.
"A beautiful young woman stood outside. She asked why the baby had been crying and where the mother was. I broke down. I couldn't even speak, I didn't know how to explain or where to start from."
Mrs. Lee smiled through tears.
"She took you from my arms and said you were sick. I broke down completely, crying, where will I tell them I saw a Black baby from."
Linda's lips trembled. As she tried to spoke, she opened her mouth no words came out.
"She told me to give her your information. She took you to the hospital, telling them her husband was Black, that you were hers."
Mrs. Lee wiped her tears.
"After that, I couldn't let her go. She cared for you like her own. And before we knew it… we fell in love."
Mrs Lee voice shook. As she continues from where her husband stopped.
"My parents were against it. They disowned me. But I didn't care."
She cupped Linda's face gently.
"That is how you became our daughter, linda."
The room dissolved into tears as Linda finally leaned into them, the truth no longer a shadow, but a thing in the past.
A tear dropped onto her hand as she reminisced about that very day. She wiped it away quickly and started the engine; the bike roared to life beneath her. She drove out of the compound and joined the traffic.
Even as she sped along the road, your mother died a few years later kept replaying in her head. She increased her speed, as if riding faster could quiet the anger and pain burning inside her.
By the time Linda arrived at school, she was already late. She parked her bike in its usual spot and hurried toward the training hall. When she reached her classroom, her friends had already gone for karate practice, so she didn't waste time and followed after them.
At the entrance of the hall, she spotted Ha Rin waiting.
"Linda," Ha Rin said quietly, "Ji Hoon has been looking for you."
"Ji Hoon?" Linda frowned.
Ha Rin stared at her. "You don't even know your instructor's name? He's the senior student teaching you karate."
"Oh…" Linda muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.
Just then, Ji Hoon walked in. His hands were tucked into his trouser pockets, his expression serious, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Linda straightened at once and bowed respectfully.
"Mr. Kwon wants to see you," he said.