"Jung JaeHyun!"

I turn around quickly in surprise at the sound of my new name, still not used to it yet. I jump as the voice calls again, causing me to drop the soccer ball that I had been dribbling between my legs for practice. The ball rolls halfway down the street before I can catch it, and I run back to the person whose familiar voice had called out to. My Eomma stood waiting for me, her usually light-brown face illuminated by spots of dull redness in her cheeks.

"I've been calling you for ages! Where did you go?" She asks me in rushed English, her irritation and worry plain. She always lapsed back to her native tongue whenever she was anxious and I held her hand automatically, wanting to ease her distress.

"It's OK mom," I respond back in the same language, "I was just practicing like Hyung told me. He said dil-i-gence was important and that I should practice every day." I sound out the hard word, proud that I'd managed to memorize it.

"It's good that you're practicing but next time do it closer to home. Those alleyways could be dangerous, alright?"

"Ne," I replied easily as I led her into our building, the large structure looming above us like a giant. It was so different from the tiny orphanage that I'd lived in my whole life, my new room larger than the one I'd shared with two other boys since I'd been old enough to remember.

Living with Eomma had made everything better and different; each day was an adventure. For a long time, I had wondered why everything had begun to feel so gloomy when Eomma left me at the home after each of her visits. But all my sadness had washed away. And while I missed my friends, I was happy. I had Eomma and now I had Hyung too. I wondered if my friends would ever be adopted, and if they would ever get to be as happy as I was.

"Jung JaeHyun, are you daydreaming again?" A soft voice asks as I walk into our apartment. A tall man is sitting at our table, and his familiar smile as welcome to me as my mother's. I run to hug TaekWoon hyung, my soccer ball dropping to the floor in my haste.

"Hyung! Onjae wasseo?"

"Not that long, maybe 20 minutes. Are you feeling OK today?" Hyung ruffles my hair in his usual habit but today I don't laugh.

I nod my head, unable to say anything else as nervous flutters fill my stomach when I think about the interview. Eomma had told me that a man would be coming from the adoption agency this afternoon, someone who would ask me questions about living here. I don't know what kind of questions they'll be, if they'll be hard to answer or not. And the not knowing is what makes me nervous; I don't really want to do it and I hate meeting strangers but Eomma says I have to.

Because I'm quiet, the grown-ups glance at each other and Eomma's lips turn up into a smile. She hugs me from behind and I breathe out a small sigh of relief at the comforting touch.

"Don't worry, Jae. Just tell the man how you feel about living here. There's no need to be nervous," she says while patting my head gently. My mom's always like that; she only tells me not to be nervous when she's freaking out but it's fine cause I know how to play it off.

"Eomma, why do I have to talk to someone from the agency anyway?" I whine only a little because I already know the answer. I keep asking anyway, hoping her response will change.

"It's a routine checkup sweetie. They have to make sure you're being well taken care of."

"You take the best care of me," I tell her and I mean it.

Unlike the other kids at the orphanage my mom had always been there, watching over me and telling me one day she would bring me home for good. I had sometimes doubted it, especially when the other kids had been mean, but Eomma had done it. What more could I ask for? I was luckier than any kid I knew.

Time passes slowly while Hyung and me lightly kick the soccer ball around in living room. I miss a pass and the ball crashes into the table lamp, the whole thing making a loud bang as it hits the floor. Thankfully the lamp itself doesn't break but me and Hyung both get scolded for playing with the ball in the house.

After that we're regulated to only quiet activities and my mom makes me read a book. But I can't concentrate on the words and I stare aimlessly at the pictures. I feel like taking something apart and my fingers itch for my tools, the set of child-sized equipment Hyung bought for me as a surprise begging for me to come and play. Mom had groaned out loud when she'd seen them and the memory of it makes me smile.

With those good times in mind, I'm finally feeling calm but a knock on our door breaks my mood immediately. Hyung gets the door while Eomma frets over me, patting down my hair and brushing imaginary dust from my clothes. I squirm away just enough before Hyung walks in with a man trailing behind him.

He's a short and sallow faced man, with thinning hair and very small eyes. I don't like the look of him but mom prods me gently and I remember to smile.

"Im Seokjin inmida," the man says giving a curt bow in Hyung's direction and with barely a glance to my mother. I feel my face twitch in anger; he isn't the first person to disrespect my Eomma but now I'm sure I don't like this man.

"I'm here for my interview with Jung JaeHyun. I presume he's here?" The man continues pompously, looking around as if he can't see me and irritation fills me. I hate it when adults act like they can't see kids.

"He's right here," my mom says while pushing me forward and the man's eyes widen slightly in surprise. No one ever expects my mom to speak Korean so well and as she leads us both to my room for 'a private conversation' I watch the man's beady eyes as he takes everything in.

When my mom leaves us alone, I sit on my bed and hug my stuffed Pororo, feeling worse now that I'm alone with weird ahjusshi. He inspects everything in the room and then finally looks at me.

"You seem to have a lot of nice things here. Did your mother buy them for you?"

I nod in response, hoping I won't have to say much.

"And have you ever felt afraid while you were living here? Have either of your new parents ever scared you?"

The man has pulled out his phone, and is talking into it, reaching it out closer to me when I speak.

"I've never been scared," I respond while feeling strange. The man frowns but quickly replaces it with what I guess is supposed to be a smile. Instead of reassuring me though, I feel slightly sick.

"You can tell me JaeHyun. I know that your new Eomma is a foreigner. They sometimes hit their children; especially the black ones. If she's hurt you, you can just say it. I'll take you with me and you won't have to stay."

"What do you mean? My Eomma has never hit me before," I say while shaking my head. These aren't the questions I expected, and I feel confused and angry. Why is he saying these things about my mom?

"C'mon JaeHyun, I know she has. These foreign people have tempers. You say one word and I'll take you away from here."

The man reaches for me and I scramble off my bed and back into the wall, hating the way he follows after me. I hold out my hands to stop him, but he grabs one, keeping me in place.

"Stop! You don't know what you're saying. My mom wouldn't hurt me!" I yell feeling frustrated. I wriggled my hand from out of the man's grasp and step away from him, unease rising into my chest.

"I thought you were going to ask me what it's like to have a family. You're supposed to ask if I'm happy."

"Cha! How could you be happy living with her? Now tell me!"

Mr. Kim grabs me again, this time roughly and by the arm. Pain and fear makes me cry out. When I try to cower away, he only shakes me, and tightens his hold on me. The glint in the man's eyes were scary and I do the only thing I can think of.

"No! Eomma! Appa!"

My screams echo loudly and soon the heavy fall of footsteps running to my room made me sag in relief, uncalled for tears began dripping down my face.

The man was still holding my arm when the door burst open, my Appa coming in quickly followed by my mom.

Taking in the situation in a quick glance, Appa takes three large strides to where the man is holding me. With fury in his eyes, he grabs the man's hand that held my arm and squeezes his wrist until I hear a snap and the man howls in pain. He releases me immediately and Eomma swoops me up in her arms, cradling me like she has done in years.

But Appa doesn't stop there; he raises the man by his hand and forces him to the floor in a seamless movement, planting his knee firmly in the man's back.

Eomma puts me down and hushes me while I cry, wrapping her arms tightly around me. Appa hasn't moved from the man and is whispering something in his ear. I quiet myself down to listen, and he sounds different from how he's always been before.

"Do not ever touch my son again! You are in my house and I will kill you before you do it again." I bury my face into Eomma's skirt; too many emotions going on inside me at once.

"JaeHyun, are you ok?" Eomma asks me, her hands gently holding the wrist the man held. Slight dark spots cover my skin where he grabbed me and even though I want to be strong, I can't help the whimper that escapes from my lips. I shake my head, fear making it hard for me to speak. Eomma's arms wrap around me tightly again and suddenly I understand. My parents would protect me, and now I was safe.

We have to go to the police station and the officers there ask me lots of questions about what happened. I don't want to talk to them, but they tell me they're taking the bad man away and I feel better. Much later my mom tucks me in and I pretend to fall asleep but I can't. I turn on my night light, one I haven't used in a long time, feeling suddenly afraid of the dark. Hugging my Thomas the tank engine pillow close, I replay Appa taking down the scary man again and again in my mind until I finally drift off to sleep, knowing that I have a both a mother and a father who will protect me.