ᖇOOᗰᗰᗩTᗴՏ ᗯITᕼ ᕼIᗰ 《C.TZ × J.JK》

Chapter 63: The Letter and a Present

It was a cool Tuesday of July and the day that marked two weeks of the passing of Otakawa Orphanage's head caretaker. The clouds loomed in their puffy forms in the sky, promising a nice afternoon and the slightly-warm wind blew around the courtyard tickling anybody that let themselves get wrapped into its blanket.

But while the joyful afternoon was being enjoyed outside, the gloom inside the last dorm on the fifth floor still hung in the air, and two others ones in the college. But though the sudden death swirled dark smoke in some particular lives and getting used to it was a challenge difficult to accomplish, the targeted tried their best to overthrow the weight it was pressing down on their spirits.

Tzuyu had been called to the orphanage by Mrs. Kang who, though was a cook, was elected as the new head caretaker of place by the rest of the staff. Her authoritative, but motherly figure had the children bid her commands more than any other workers so it was clear that she was the best nominee for the role. But since she was already a part of the kitchen job, it was decided that she was a temporary one until the orphanage could find another caretaker. If not, then she was permanent since she had no problem doing both, and the kitchen staff wasn't in the minority either.

Too protective to send Tzuyu alone and despite her protests, Jungkook insisted on coming along with her. Whatever it was that Mrs. Kang had to tell, Tzuyu was still shaken and nervous because of how Mrs. Lee was being so warning and careful that day. It was about her grandparents, people who never really loved her and who she never saw or met. Jungkook had embraced her hand his own the whole drive to the orphanage, but even his calming touch was unable to help the poor girl terminate her trembles.

Mrs. Kang hadn't even told them if the old folks were going be there or not. But if they were, how was she supposed to react in front of them? Go hug them like a long lost granddaughter would've, or smugly snort at their faces and hug Jungkook to let them knew that she'd found a better family? She doubted that she could be advised since there was a massive doubt in her mind of someone being put into this type of situation in the normal basis of their lives.

But luckily, the odds were on her side. The old couple had chosen to remain in Taiwan. Instead of making a trip to South Korea, and without letting the calamitous situation be in consideration, they had written a six-paged letter, back-to-back, typed in a tiny font explaining what had happened in the past few weeks, and sent it to Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Kang wouldn't have known about it if the letter wasn't laid open, all crinkled up, next to Mrs. Lee's cold, bony body. She had read it and had been horrified beyond thought. Though being a little sensitive, she decided that it was best that Tzuyu knew. The late woman seemed happy about it, excited to let the girl know right away, but the cook had grown up in a family who's tree was far too big for the branches to be counted. And the idea of a family not wanting their heir, their descendant, their own child, was too preposterous for a brought up like hers.

The old Chou couple, read the letter, had been ambuscaded in their car on their way home from a business conference. It was a group of men on motorbikes, their faces covered in black cloth and guns held in hands, triggers pulled ready if needed to be shot.

The Chous had been terrified yonder their wits, assuming at first that they were being tailed for their wealth. And that was only a part of it. They hadn't wanted much, just the expensive pearls on old Mrs. Chou's neck . . .

. . . and the lost baby's whereabouts.

The grandparents had dedicated two whole paragraphs bragging about their kindness on how they protected the child by giving the gang the wrong information and putting their own lives in danger even when they were being given death threats. Mrs. Kang had widened her eyes in incredulity as she watched Tzuyu and her boyfriend read the letter themselves at the table in front of her, arms folded and tutting in tremendous pity.