chapter 6

"So, what can I do?" I asked. "And as I said earlier, there are other people I want to take with me. There were some who helped me during that time of chaos, and if I can repay them by saving their lives in this lifetime, I want to at least give them back what I owe them."

My mother took my hand and looked at me gently.

"Evelyn, that's the nature of a kind-hearted person. It shows how much you care about the people you love. And we completely agree with you. Even if we can save just one person through our own efforts, it would still mean a lot."

I was relieved and happy to see their approval of my decision.

"But wouldn't it be even more obvious if a group of interconnected people suddenly tried to immigrate to another country without any clear reason?" My father interjected, his voice thoughtful. "You need to make everything look reasonable first."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"What we can do is this—people like you, Yona, or anyone else capable of working should try to apply for jobs there. If even one member of a family moves for work, the rest have a legitimate reason to immigrate as well. For example, we can say, 'Our only daughter is there, what can we do here without her?' Similarly, if a spouse is moving, their partner has a valid reason to join them. If parents move, their children can follow. This way, it will look natural."

I nodded, understanding his point.

"Try to see if you can get through this by finding jobs—any kind of jobs. It doesn't matter if they are low-paying or even fake as long as they provide a legal pretext for immigration," he added.

"All right, I'll talk to Yona and Emma, and we'll sort this through. Thanks for reminding me. If we hadn't thought about this, we might have ended up ruining our plans."

My father smiled. "It's all right, dear. I'm always here to help you."

He hesitated before adding, "The process of selling the house and everything in it will take some time."

His voice softened, and I knew why. He was deeply attached to this house. It had been built by my grandfather, and three generations of our family had lived here. This house held memories of his parents, his happy life, and my childhood. Leaving it behind would be emotionally overwhelming for him, and I didn't want to pressure him at all.

There are still three months, I thought to myself. Even if it takes ten or more days for them to finally let go, I'll wait. It's the least I can do for my parents.

I looked at him reassuringly. "It's not that urgent. You can take your time to adjust."

My father's eyes filled with pride as he gazed at me, as if realizing I had truly matured. I wasn't the little girl who hid behind him, avoiding and running away from problems anymore.

"But you'll still need money," he said, his tone serious again. "I know you don't have that much saved up. Living in a big city costs an arm and a leg, and whatever little you have won't be enough. The land and materials you need to buy in Antarctica, the flights, and other expenses won't be covered by just your savings."

He exchanged a silent look with my mother, as if they were having a private conversation without words. Then, turning back to me, he said,

"Come with me."

I stood up and followed him into the small library of our house. My father wasn't a businessman. He wasn't the type of man who particularly liked those boring study rooms, so he had turned our spare room into a library instead. He was a great fan of classic literature, so the shelves were filled with books on philosophy and history.

He walked to the cabinet placed against the wall, carefully taking a few books off the shelf and setting them aside. To my surprise, there was a small safe embedded in the wall behind them. I hadn't known about this before, but I stayed silent, watching as he unlocked it.

From inside, he took out a few jewelry boxes and two stacks of bundled cash.

I wasn't sure of the exact amount, but for a middle-class family like ours, it was quite a lot. My mother noticed my surprised expression and began speaking.

"This is everything we've managed to save up over the years," she said softly. "Some of it came from your father's inheritance, some we put aside for our retirement, and the rest... we saved for your wedding."

A bitter smile spread across her face as she spoke.

"But given the circumstances… if things really happen the way you say, then I don't think there will be much use for these savings."

My father opened the jewelry boxes one by one. There were a total of five.

One held a beautiful jade set—a delicate pendant and matching earrings. Another contained a white gold set, adorned with small clustered diamonds.

I recognized the jade set immediately. It was an inheritance from my mother's side, given to her as part of her dowry.

And there were a few other jewelry pieces—some bracelets and gold rings.

"I know it's not too much, but I know it can help you a lot," my father said.

I felt a lump in my throat as I watched him place the boxes down and hand me the stack of cash.

"This is around $300,000. And there might be some savings in our bank, too. Tomorrow, I'll go to the bank and withdraw them as well. With this money, you'll go to Antarctica, buy land, and then hire workers to build a proper shelter," he said.

I was overwhelmed with emotion. The trust he placed in me… He was willing to give me his entire fortune based only on my words. I clutched the cash and the jewelry in my hands, feeling the weight of their sacrifice. Without a second thought, I hugged my father tightly and mumbled a soft, "Thank you."

"You stupid child," he chuckled, patting my back. "You're trying to save everyone, and what we're doing is just our part in making sure things run smoothly. This is the least we can do to help. We don't have future knowledge like you do, so we can't predict the consequences of this disaster. But since you know what's best in these circumstances, it's actually you who is helping us all the most."

After lunch, my father and I planned to go to a pawn shop and sell the jewelry. My mother also encouraged me, reassuring me with her warm smile.

She had cooked all my favorite dishes, and after a long time, I finally had a meal that felt fulfilling—not just in taste but in comfort.

As my father had planned, after lunch, we hurried to the local pawn shop in town. Since everyone knew each other, the owner asked my father about the reason for selling the valuables. My father fabricated a story about me getting a job in another country where I needed money to buy a house. He didn't specify which country, keeping his answers vague—just that they needed to make some sacrifices for my better future.

The owner didn't probe too much. It was common to see middle-class families selling valuables to provide for their children's futures, so the transaction went smoothly.

When I checked my phone, my eyes widened in disbelief.

1.6 million dollars.

I was stunned beyond words. I had never imagined that the heirlooms, carried through generations, would be worth so much. Maybe they were antique pieces of significant value.

I felt a rush of relief and excitement. This was more than enough for my initial plans. I had only expected a fraction of this amount, but now, with such a sum in hand—and with the house and land still left to be sold—I could plan things on a much larger scale.

If I used 1.2 million entirely for the house, I would still have enough left for renovations and other essential expenses.