The plane touched down with a soft thud.
Like it was sighing.
Ashlyn didn't move.
Passengers around her immediately jumped up, reaching for luggage, talking loudly, complaining about cramped legs and long flights.
She stayed seated.
Her hood was still up.
Hands clenched.
Heart pounding.
Slowly, she wiped the last tear from her cheek.
That was the last one.
The last tear she would ever cry for Lagos.
For the Okoros.
For Tiffany.
She rubbed her palms against her hoodie sleeves like she was dusting something off.
Dusting them off her skin.
Dusting off their lies.
Their fake love.
Their mansion.
Their fake family dinners.
Their fake smiles.
She exhaled slowly.
"Done," she whispered.
The aisle finally cleared.
Then she stood.
Backpack over one shoulder.
And stepped off the plane.
The jet bridge smelled different.
Clean.
Cool.
Nothing like Lagos.
No diesel fumes.
No hot dust.
Just air.
Bright airport lights stretched across polished floors. People walked quickly, luggage wheels clicking across the ground.
Large signs hung from the ceiling.
Hangul.
The curved Korean letters she had stared at for years while watching dramas and music videos.
Now they were real.
Ashlyn stopped walking for a moment.
A strange feeling spread through her chest.
Excitement.
Fear.
Freedom.
"I'm really here," she whispered.
She reached into her pocket.
Pulled out the small photocard.
The smiling face of Jimin from BTS stared back at her.
Her bias.
Her comfort during nights she cried alone in that big empty mansion.
She flipped the card over again.
Her stomach twisted.
The same message stared back at her.
Welcome home, Ashlyn.
Tiny handwriting.
Neat.
Deliberate.
She frowned.
"Who wrote this?"
Nobody knew.
Not the Okoros.
Not Tiffany.
Not the passport officer who processed her quiet name change.
Felicia was gone.
Ashlyn existed now.
So how did someone know?
Her fingers traced the ink slowly.
A chill crawled up her spine.
But she pushed the thought away.
Not today.
Today was about survival.
She slipped the card back into her pocket.
And walked out of the airport.
Seoul exploded around her.
Neon lights buzzed across buildings.
Scooters zipped through the streets.
People laughed, talked, walked in groups.
Everything moved fast.
Everything felt alive.
A boy wearing a hoodie walked toward her holding a stack of flyers.
He handed her one.
A city map.
Red dots marked different places.
Guesthouses.
Convenience stores.
The wide blue curve of the Han River.
He bowed slightly,
Annyeonghaseyo(hello)," he greeted.
Ashlyn blinked.
Then smiled faintly.
Annyeonghaseyo (Hello)," she replied.
Her accent was thick but understandable.
The boy grinned.
"You new here?"
"Yes."
He pointed down the street.
"Han River that way."
Ashlyn nodded.
Gamsahamnida," she said.
Thank you.
The boy gave her a thumbs up.
"Fighting!"
Ashlyn tucked the map into her hoodie pocket and walked toward the taxi line.
The taxi driver was older.
Gray hair.
Baseball cap.
He glanced at her through the mirror.
"Where to?"
Ashlyn hesitated before answering ,
"Excuse me… Han River… cheap guesthouse?"
The driver chuckled.
"Tourist?"
"Maybe."
He shrugged.
"Five thousand won."
She nodded and got in.
The taxi pulled into traffic.
Seoul blurred past the window.
Towering buildings.
Glowing billboards.
Crowds moving under bright lights.
The driver glanced back at her.
"First time Korea?"
"Yes."
"You staying long?"
Ashlyn looked out the window again.
"Yes."
Forever, if she could.
The radio played a soft Korean ballad as the car drove along the river.
Finally, the taxi stopped.
"Here."
She paid and stepped out.
The Han River stretched wide and dark.
City lights reflected across the water like shattered stars.
Couples walked hand-in-hand along the riverside path.
Runners jogged past wearing headphones.
A kid on a scooter nearly crashed into her.
Ashlyn stepped aside quickly.
The kid shouted an apology and sped away.
She laughed softly.
It surprised her.
She hadn't laughed in days.
Her stomach growled.
Hungry.
Across the street, a glowing sign caught her eye.
7-Eleven.
Inside, warm air wrapped around her.
Shelves were stacked with snacks she had only seen online.
She grabbed spicy beef ramyeon and a bottle of banana milk.
The cashier scanned them.
"4,800 won."
Ashlyn paid.
The girl studied her curiously.
"You new?"
Ashlyn nodded.
"Yes."
The cashier smiled.
"Ramyeon spicy. Be careful."
Ashlyn smiled faintly.
Gamsahamida (Thank you)."
Outside, she sat on a low stone wall facing the river.
Steam rose from the ramyeon cup.
She took a bite.
Instant regret.
Her tongue burned.
"Hot!"
But the taste hit next.
Spicy.
Salty.
Comforting.
She finished the noodles slowly.
Then drank the banana milk.
Sweet.
Creamy.
Perfect.
When she finished, she threw the cup away and opened the map again.
A small guesthouse was marked nearby.
Ten minutes away.
Ashlyn stood and started walking.
Street music echoed somewhere nearby.
Groups of girls passed her, laughing loudly.
The guesthouse appeared exactly where the map said.
Small.
Warm lights glowing inside.
She pushed the door open.
A woman in her fifties stood behind the desk.
"Room?"
"Three nights," Ashlyn said.
"Private."
The woman nodded.
"10,000 won. Shower down hall."
Ashlyn paid and took the key.
Her room was tiny.
Single bed.
Small desk.
Window facing the river.
Ashlyn dropped her backpack and her luggage,sat on the bed.
Ashlyn lay back on the bed.
The mattress creaked.
Outside the window, the Han River shimmered under the city lights. Cars moved across the bridge like slow streams of fire.
She pulled the photocard out again.
Jimin smiled up at her like always.
Comforting.
Familiar.
Safe.
But the back of the card wasn't safe.
It held a secret.
Welcome home,
Ashlyn.
Her fingers brushed the ink again.
Still fresh.
Still real.
She whispered quietly,
"Who wrote this…?"
Silence answered.
Then—
Her phone vibrated.
Ashlyn froze.
Slowly… carefully… she reached into her bag.
The screen lit up.
Unknown number.
One message.
Her heart slammed.
She opened it.
Three words appeared on the screen.
"I found you."
Ashlyn shot up from the bed.
Her eyes widened.
Outside the window, someone stood across the street.
Watching the guesthouse.
And when the stranger looked up—
Ashlyn's phone buzzed again.
Another message.
"Don't worry."
"You're safe now."
The question left for her to answer is
"Is Seoul safe or not?"