She should have run then. But the salary was good. The daughter's hospital bills were real. And Hoon played the piano every evening—Chopin, sad and slow—and the sound traveled up the dumbwaiter shaft into her attic room like a confession.

Some stains don't wash out.

Then came the night of the anniversary party. The madam drank too much champagne. The grandfather—a paralyzed patriarch in a wheelchair—watched Eun-ha with the stillness of a spider. And Hoon, drunk on soju and loneliness, placed his hand on her waist in the pantry. housemaid korean movie

But the master, Mr. Hoon, was different. He noticed her. Not with the lecherous gaze she expected from Korean dramas, but with something worse: empathy. She should have run then