Chapter 9
When Ivan turned around, Hank’s old grandmother—with her hair completely white—was standing there.
“Who are you?!”
Thud.
“Who are you to take this child somewhere?!”
As the old woman shouted loudly enough to shake the street, Ivan’s heart dropped.
“His aunt? That’s ridiculous!”
The woman’s delicate eyelashes fluttered rapidly in confusion. She looked scared of the fierce old woman.
“…Stay here, Mom.”
Ivan gently patted her hand, as if reassuring her.
“Ivan?”
“I’ll take care of it quickly.”
That witch of a grandma really was useless to the very end.
She always grabbed him to vent her anger, and now—until the very end.
Even as Ivan cursed her in his mind, he forced a calm expression.
“Wait, Ivan. Where are you going?”
Still, the woman didn’t look reassured at all.
With clear worry, she frowned and held his shoulder tightly.
“She’s my friend’s grandmother. Hank.”
Ivan spoke casually again.
He couldn’t let the woman and that old hag meet.
If that witch started shouting and drew attention, everything would be ruined.
“But she has dementia… She shouldn’t be wandering around like that.”
“…She looks really agitated. Ivan, let’s go together.”
“No, if you go, she’ll get even angrier. She’s already yelling at you.”
Ivan quickly shook his head.
“And she’s shouting so much that people are getting startled. If you come, it’ll only make things worse. It’ll bother everyone.”
“Ah…”
The woman looked around and took a step back.
“She probably doesn’t recognize you right now. It seems like she only recognizes me, so it’s better if I go alone.”
“But Ivan…”
“She scratches people when she doesn’t recognize them. Hank’s mom got scratched before too.”
Lowering his voice as if to scare her, Ivan pushed away the hand that was holding his shoulder.
“She’s not violent toward kids, so don’t worry. There’s probably an adult nearby anyway.”
As the old woman got closer, Ivan spoke faster.
“I’ll bring her back quickly. We’re taking the carriage in 30 minutes, right? I’ll be back before that. Don’t worry.”
“That girl’s an orphan! Since when does she have a sister?! I’ve known her since she was a baby!”
The distance between the old woman and the woman had shrunk to less than ten steps.
Ivan reassured her once more and ran toward the old woman.
“Grandma, come on. Let’s go home.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled with all his strength.
Glancing back, he saw the woman still watching him with worried eyes.
She looked like she might follow him at any moment.
Ivan smiled brightly and waved, as if to say there was nothing to worry about.
“I need to teach that woman a lesson so she never comes near again! Ivan, stop pulling! I’ll fall!”
“What did she even do wrong?”
Who did that old woman think she was?
Why was she yelling at someone so soft-hearted?
As the old woman kept trying to turn back, Ivan stepped hard on her foot and kept dragging her forward.
“Seriously. Why did you even come here?”
Only after dragging her into a nearby alley did he let go and snap irritably.
“You little brat!”
The old woman lashed out and tried to kick him.
“I asked why you came.”
“You left the house at dawn! That woman—your mother—grew up in an orphanage and became a bar woman. Where would she get a sister from?!”
“…Ugh, she’s not really family. She just told me to call her that.”
Only then did the old woman nod as if she understood.
“Tsk tsk. Then she’s a bar woman too. Come on, let’s go home.”
“I was going anyway. Who said I’d follow her? I just walked her here.”
Ivan slapped away the old woman’s hand as she pinched him and quickly pulled her along.
“You shouldn’t run away. You may be useless now, but you’ve got a decent face. When you grow up, women will come looking for you.”
Ivan ignored her rambling nonsense, letting it go in one ear and out the other, while scanning the surroundings.
As expected, the alley was empty.
People avoided this path because of the animal blood flowing from the butcher shop.
Of course, the old woman didn’t seem to notice, too busy talking.
“You know your mother borrowed money from me and used you as collateral, right? Even if she hadn’t, all you’ve learned is to sell your body—”
Ivan quickly opened the storage door behind the butcher shop and slipped inside.
“You brat, Ivan!”
The old woman followed him in, trying to catch him.
“Get out here right now! What do you think you’re doing?!”
Ivan narrowly avoided her grasp.
“If I catch you, I’ll beat you so badly you’ll never pull this again!”
After leading her deep inside, past hanging pigs, Ivan slipped out again.
And slammed the door shut.
Bang.
“Aaah! You rotten brat! How dare you trick an elder!”
This door was broken—it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
And once closed, the underground storage room became completely dark.
“Ivan! I know you’re out there! Open the door!”
The old woman screamed from inside.
The last time older kids locked Ivan in here, he didn’t get out until evening.
If no one passed by, the old woman would also be stuck until the butcher closed shop.
Ivan carefully checked his clothes and hair for any pig’s blood.
Then he wiped the blood off his shoes against the ground.
And ran toward the square where the woman was waiting.
A large carriage stood in front of the carriage office, ready to depart.
Ivan sped up and quickly exited the alley.
The driver was checking names and loading luggage.
And the woman was pacing anxiously near the alley entrance.
“Mom, I’m back.”
Ivan approached from behind and grabbed her hand tightly.
“Ivan.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“The man was looking for her. I brought her back safely.”
“Oh, good job. You did well, Ivan.”
She stroked his hair several times.
Ivan leaned into her hand and made a modest expression that adults liked.
“Really?”
“Of course. Her family must’ve been worried. You did very well. You’re such a kind child.”
As he lowered his eyes shyly, she continued praising him.
“But next time, go with Mom. What if she got violent with you too?”
She checked him carefully, holding his shoulders to see if he was hurt.
“Yes, I will!”
Reassured, she took his hand and they went to stand at the end of the boarding line.
“Alright, that’s all your luggage? Box seat, right? Get on, we’re leaving soon.”
When it was their turn, the driver folded his list and spoke.
Afraid someone might recognize him, Ivan kept his head down and quickly approached the carriage with her.
He wanted to get on and leave as fast as possible.
“I’ll lift you up.”
She picked him up and helped him onto the seat, then sat beside him.
Seeing Ivan still hunched over, she took out a fur hat and extra clothing from the bag.
“Are you cold?”
She thought he was shivering from the cold.
Ivan touched the fur hat she put on him.
It was her hat.
Instead of looking back toward his home, Ivan tightly held her hand.
And prayed again.
Neigh.
As the driver pulled the reins, the horse let out a soft cry and the carriage began to move.
The carriage carrying Ivan and the woman left the village.
It climbed a hill, crossed a river, and kept going.
Only when they crossed the second bridge did Ivan finally realize—
they had safely left the village.
