She looked at my plain clothes and decided I was a custodian, then adjusted to intern, and told me the executive elevator was not for people like me. Nobody in that hallway asked my name. A woman quietly advised me to take the service lift, and when I asked how anyone reached the floors above fifty eight, she said they climbed four flights, every day, because someone had decided they were not worthy of sharing a car with executives. That bothered me far more than the insult. I stepped in anyway. Upstairs the whispers followed. Secretary Rian is his right hand. He spoils her. Then the light caught a white limited edition watch on her wrist, one of twelve made, the one I had chosen for my mother-in-law’s birthday and asked my husband to order.

When Haneul came out of that conference room he called her Sohee ya, in front of forty people, and asked who had dared upset her. She pointed at me and said an intern. He saw my face. And then he said nothing at all for eleven full seconds, which was the answer.