Woonhee was at her desk when he came in.
The office had the particular quality of a space that was being used at full capacity — two additional desks in the corners that hadn't been there three months ago, both occupied by people Kang Min didn't recognize, stacks of documentation on every flat surface, a whiteboard along one wall with a marketplace traffic diagram that had been revised enough times that the original lines were barely visible under the revisions.
Min-ju was on the floor near Woonhee's desk with a collection of building blocks that she was arranging into a structure with the focused attention that she brought to anything that required stacking. She was walking now, properly, without the careful deliberateness of a child who had recently learned to walk. She walked the way she did everything — committed, forward, not particularly concerned about what was in the way.
She looked up when Kang Min came in.
She pointed at him.
"Appa," she said.
