" Sunja, who’d been quiet, waiting for Noa to speak up, wiped her wet hands on her apron. “Can I go? Can we leave now?” She’d never left early before. “I’ll stay here and finish. You go. Hurry. I’ll be right there after I’m done.” Sunja reached for Noa’s hand. * Halfway down the street, Sunja shouted, “Mozasu!” and Noa looked up at her. “Umma, Aunt will bring him home,” he said calmly. She clutched his hand tighter and walked briskly toward the house. “You ease my mind, Noa. You ease my mind.” Without the others around, it was possible to be kind to her son. Parents weren’t supposed to praise their children, she knew this—it would only invite disaster. But her father had always told her when she had done something well; out of habit, he would touch the crown of her head or pat her back, even when she did nothing at all. Any other parent might’ve been chided by the neighbors for spoiling a daughter, but no one said anything to her crippled father, who marveled at his child’s symmetrical features and normal limbs. He took pleasure in just watching her walk, talk, and do simple sums in her head. Now that he was gone, Sunja held on to her father’s warmth and kind words like polished gems. No one should expect praise, and certainly not a woman, but as a little girl, she’d been treasured, nothing less. She’d been her father’s delight. She wanted Noa to know what "

― Lee Min-jin , Pachinko