Little Women: Episodes 3-4

Little Women: Episodes 3-4

by alathe

Things are fast spiraling out of control for our heroines. With one sister facing the nasty aftermath of her company director’s death, and a second trying to usher the youngest away from the proverbial deal with a wealthy devil, it’s hard to say whether any of them will emerge unscathed.

EPISODES 3-4 WEECAP

In the first of many sibling spats about money and morality, In-kyung confronts In-hye with her less-than-legitimate extracurriculars. In-kyung can’t decide what incenses her more about In-hye letting PARK HYO-RIN (Jeon Chae-eun) take the credit for her painting — the dishonesty, or the fact that In-hye is excited to sell her soul for cold, hard cash.

To add insult to injury, In-hye has made herself at home schmoozing amongst the moneyed elite — at a party presided over by In-kyung’s mortal enemy, Jae-sang. It’s under this provocation that In-kyung snaps, subjecting In-hye to the teenage equivalent of a fate worse than death. Buoyed up by soju and sadness, she shimmies up a nearby post and, in full view of everyone, wails for her sister to come home.

Guests murmur. In-hye is in quiet agony. And In-kyung’s po-faced colleague, JANG MA-RI (Gong Min-jung) plays her signature move, phone ever on-hand to film another drunken catastrophe. As police flock the area, In-kyung issues Jae-sang a bleary yet heartfelt ultimatum. In-hye is the person she loves most in the world. If he hurts her, he’ll suffer.

Elsewhere, In-joo deals with the quite literal fallout of Director Shin’s messy descent. In between abortive bouts of CPR, she scrambles to answer his ringing phone: Do-il. He meets her at the hospital, where he takes her sternly by the shoulders and coaches her on how to mislead the police. Panicked, In-joo puts two and two together, coming up with malice aforethought. This guy knew Director Shin was not long for this world — and, as witness, she may be next on the hit list.

Still, Do-il’s surprisingly forthright for someone who may or may not be part of a murderous conspiracy. For all that In-joo plays clueless, it’s clear he’s onto her possession of the two billion won. But, with an utterly straight face, he proposes a neat cover-up for her ill-gotten cash: pin the blame on the dead man, Director Shin.

In-joo had been bent on solving Hwa-young’s murder — but when you’re scrubbing blood out of your dress shirt in the early hours of the morning while contemplating which of your colleagues want to kill you, justice is your last priority. She’s inclined to take Do-il’s advice and leave murderous stones unturned.

Nonetheless, circumstances (and, apparently, horticulture) have a way of intervening. Whilst tending to Hwa-young’s rooftop orchid garden — the fussiest of which, “Princess,” has burst into glorious bloom — In-joo discovers a postcard. It’s addressed to Hwa-young from CEO WON SANG-WOO (Lee Min-woo). In-joo pays him a visit, orchid pot in tow.

Turns out, Sang-woo is resident of a very comfortable, spacious set of rooms… in a psychiatric hospital. He too, according to Hwa-young, is a fellow outcast. Emboldened by this vote of confidence — and by Sang-woo’s air of gentle rationality — In-joo spills all. The murder. The money. The fact that she’s too afraid to make a move.

Sang-woo is frank. When he became CEO, he attempted to bring his father to justice for wide-scale embezzlement. All he got was a sham trial and a psychiatric referral. He fears the same for In-joo. His advice? Spend the cash. She deserves a nice winter coat far more than homicidal plutocrats deserve pocket change. Besides, he has a means of protecting her interests: slush fund ledgers documenting decades of illegal activity. Anything for the woman Hwa-young compared to an orchid on the verge of bloom.

Things are complicated by a sudden rap on the door — it’s Do-il. Handily, Sang-woo’s has prepared for this eventuality. As Sang-woo peers at Do-il over his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo (suitable!), In-joo abseils out the window on a makeshift harness — money, ledgers, orchid plant and all.

It’s not long before Do-il catches up; the local bus isn’t exactly a prompt getaway vehicle. But, surprisingly, it’s to propose an alliance. The ledgers are a dangerous weapon. Together, they can leverage them for money, and split it 50/50.

In-joo is loath to trust the man she still half suspects of murder, but when Do-il confesses his regret for not saving Hwa-young, she softens. Besides, it’s hard to remain unmoved when he calls her a game-changer — a small storm. In-joo’s not so flustered that she neglects to haggle, though: 60/40, or no deal! (The 60 goes to her. Just to be clear.)

Meanwhile, In-kyung is hovering around rock bottom. In-hye has blocked her number. She’s a single drop of soju away from getting fired. However, sheer determination has her still chasing leads — whilst Jong-ho, ever faithful, provides moral support and consolatory gardening videos. Through stubborn investigation, she sources CCTV footage of the seeming suicide of KIM DAL-SU (Lee Il-sub), one of the Bobae Savings defendants. Prior to his death, he appears to be smelling a small blue flower.

Jong-ho is quietly considerate throughout. There’s minimal time to cozy up over homemade kimchi — a love language he unfortunately shares with In-kyung’s mother — but he makes it clear to her that, other than his ailing grandfather, she’s the only one he has to protect. This tenderness is curtailed, however, as In-kyung spots the orchid Jong-ho collected from last episode’s crime scene, and her reporter neurons spark. It’s the same flower Dal-su was smelling!

In-joo, meanwhile, learns about In-hye’s intention to study in Boston — on the Won family’s dime. Appalled doesn’t begin to cover it. By putting herself at the mercy of a stranger, In-hye will be racking up debt that can’t be quantified in coin. But, as In-hye points out — what will she owe her sisters if they break their backs for her?

In-joo is determined to square away all debts. Stuffing a tuition’s fee worth of cash into her bag, she heads to meet Hyo-rin’s mother, WON SANG-AH (Eom Ji-won). Sang-ah, who maintains an extraordinary poker face regarding the several million won on her table, assures In-joo this isn’t some backroom deal: In-hye won a legitimate scholarship from her husband’s foundation. Then, playing her trump card, she shows In-joo her sister’s portfolio. The pieces are masterful — and miserable. One depicts a sprawled figure in a forest: a girl In-hye described as her dying sister.

As Sang-ah smilingly tells her not to kill herself paying for In-hye, In-joo’s suspicions run dark. Later, she is plagued by flashbacks of being eight years old — of leaning down, and realizing a baby isn’t breathing. Of her mother trudging into the night. After all, it’s Little Women… naturally, there’s a Beth.

At home, In-kyung discovers the hidden money. She’s horrified. When In-joo returns, she hardly needs to confirm its provenance; In-kyung has already guessed who left it to her, and she won’t stand for theft.

Numbly, In-joo relates what she has held back for years, and what she only now realizes In-kyung doesn’t remember. Back when they were out on the streets, they had a three-year-old sister whose illness they were too poor to treat. When she died, their parents fell apart. In-kyung was sent to their Great Aunt, and the silence persisted ever since. People die when they are poor. In light of that — what’s theft? But, In-kyung is determined that she’d rather die than become what she hates.

Each sister grieves in her own way. In-joo, determined to seize life with both fists, leaves to buy her winter coat. In-kyung, finally understanding the hidden trauma that brings her to tears when she hears stories of broken families, stares across the balcony and broods.

Meanwhile, In-hye wanders around a mansion that wouldn’t look out of place in a Gothic novel. She enters a room full of toys. There’s a mantelpiece of tin soldiers. A doll’s house reflecting glorious luxury in miniature. A golden-haired doll with a godlike profile, which In-hye takes. And, watching her — Jae-sang.

The soldiers were for Hyo-rin’s uncle, Sang-woo. As a poor driver’s son, yearning for the wealth that was Sang-woo’s by birth, Jae-sang once stole one, only to throw it away. As he grew older, he strove to prove he belonged in the house — more than the General’s own son.

Why did In-hye submit her painting as Hyo-rin’s? Because, says In-hye, she was Hyo-rin when she painted it. She used her style, her preferences — rendering them perfect. If In-hye wants that doll, says Jae-sang, then she must earn it. Can she betray the one who loves her most in the world? He did. He betrayed his own father.

With her new coat as armor, In-joo goes toe to toe with her Great Aunt. She wants a new apartment for her family, and she needs help making it legally watertight. What’s more, despite Aunt Oh’s witty dismissals, she knows she won’t deny her. Not with the guilt of her dead sister — whose hospital bill Aunt Oh could have paid — hanging over them both.

It’s a good play. Aunt Oh agrees to sell her an apartment. It’s here that this show’s affinity with objects really shines. In-joo falling in love with a series of beautiful, empty rooms is interwoven with Hyo-rin visiting the cluttered Oh residence.

Despite the sticky window, the stoop-inducing shower and the family of ants inhabiting the kitchen, Hyo-rin can sense the love suffusing the space. It’s a love she covets — but that In-hye finds suffocating.

In-joo, for her part, knows that her loved ones need a home where they can weather the ravages of the world. It’s not easy when her sister is blocking her calls. In-kyung is proud of their strength and independence — she won’t wager it all on stolen cash. In-joo’s behavior scares her: it’s all too reminiscent of when she met her deadbeat husband.

In-kyung drowns her sorrows in research. She learns that Jae-sang visited Dal-su in the hospital, uttering a mantra with eerie calm befitting a surgeon: The war isn’t over. The general is waiting. She and Jong-ho revert to their childhood detective games (by tacit agreement, Jong-ho was always the assistant), researching the blue orchid. Turns out, the Orchid of Death is a rare breed, producing strange sedative effects when inhaled — allegedly containing the power to contact the spirits of the deceased.

In-hye is about to gain firsthand experience. With a confiding smile that cements her position as this show’s greatest harbinger of the sinister since Director Shin, Sang-ah promises to show In-hye something just between them.

Beneath the house is a sprawling chamber that glows emerald with coiled vines. At its center sits an ancient tree, housing a veritable glut of bright blue orchids. Sang-ah gifts one to In-hye — who takes a deep breath of its scent.

Sang-ah offers to let In-hye draw her portrait. It’ll be another secret they share. As In-hye sketches the face whose features she so envies, she begins to lose her grip on reality, hearing a voice bidding her to run. Sang-ah smirks. But, to her shock, In-hye collapses entirely.

Luigi’s disease. That’s the doctor’s diagnosis. It’s a hereditary heart condition, lethal if left untreated. In-joo decides she doesn’t care if In-kyung turns her in, or even if they never speak again — she must use the money for In-hye’s treatment. Knowing this is life or death, In-kyung gives her reluctant blessing.

When In-hye wakes, she and In-kyung share an uneasy reconciliation. In-kyung loves her madly, unconditionally, in a manner that encompasses all her flaws. In-hye knows this. But sometimes, she despises that kind of love. She wants to be loved for her talents, too.

As In-joo hurries to collect the money, she receives a warning call from Do-il, who has a front-row seat to Jae-sang’s strategy meetings. Jae-sang is sending his most brutal attack dog to run a background check on In-joo: GO SU-IM (Park Bo-kyung). She must lie low. Heedless of her accomplice’s warnings, In-joo returns to the yoga center.

She’s caught red-handed by Su-im. Stripped of her money, kneeling terrified, In-joo begs for a scrap of compassion: all she needs is 100 million to cover her sister’s treatment. Lazily amused, Su-im proposes a deal. She’ll lend In-joo the money — provided she can live through ten blows from her. Broken and desperate, In-joo agrees.

The first is a punch to the stomach. Su-im, alive with sadistic glee, warns In-joo that she could die — then aims for the face. The third hit sends her sprawling. The fourth is with a weapon. The fifth, she crows, will be a blow to the head. Before she can level it, Do-il comes up from behind, wrenching the weapon from her hand. But, In-joo insists that they continue. At this moment, an unlikely savior arrives in the form of Sang-ah — before whose immaculate rebuke Su-im cowers.

Sang-ah drives In-joo to the restaurant she once visited with Hwa-young. Like Hwa-young, she wraps her blazer around In-joo’s shoulders. Like Hwa-young, she wears a jeweled pair of Bruno Zuminos. The truth hits In-joo like a freight train: it wasn’t some affair with Director Shin that got Hwa-young the shoes, the clothes, and the perfect alter-ego — it was Sang-ah. And Sang-ah is in the market for a new bestie.

In-joo holds no illusions. There can be no friendship between a working class woman and the overprivileged socialite who pays for her meals — Hwa-young knew that too. But, as for being her assistant? That, she can do. At the cost of In-hye’s medical bill, of course. Little does she know, Sang-ah has already seen the situation for the press opportunity it is.

In-hye has another attack. In-joo and In-kyung tearfully offer comfort as she is wheeled into surgery. In-joo assures In-kyung that the money has been sorted — but she might not like what happens next. Meanwhile, during surgery, In-hye is plagued by visions of pursuit and escape.

When she wakes, In-hye insists they call their mother, who is predictably blithe about the whole experience. She can’t come visit — it’s mango season! In-hye cuts straight to the chase: why was she once called In-seon? It’s the name of their dead sister.

When In-hye was a baby, Hee-yeon told her about carrying the child on her back to hospital. Ripping the phone away from In-hye, In-joo confronts her weeping mother: how dare she tell In-hye half-truths? If she cares for her, she’ll come back and explain. In-kyung makes a shrewd guess — her mother has no money left. Their father is gambling again. In what is shaping up to be something of an Oh family ritual, the sisters block Hee-yeon’s number.

Next comes the bit that In-kyung’s not going to like. Namely: a tooth-achingly saccharine interview in which Jae-sang and Sang-ah parade their philanthropy before the press. The older sisters bristle, but In-hye agrees to go on camera, thanking her benefactors.

But, then comes In-kyung’s coup de grâce. As the smarmy husband-wife duo whip out their seemingly bottomless bank card, they are interrupted by Aunt Oh. She approaches Jae-sang. New money stares down old. The latter wins the bout: with a pointed remark about Jae-sang’s father, Aunt Oh steps up to pay the hospital bill.

They’ve won the battle, but the war for In-hye’s soul continues apace. She announces she’ll be staying with Hyo-rin in future. When her sisters protest, she silences them with a startling admission — that she keeps hearing In-seon’s voice. She has two options: escape this family, or wind up dead.

In-joo resolves to follow Hwa-young’s example and learn to be another person. She warns In-kyung that she’s taking the job with Sang-ah. Maybe then, she can use the ledgers to shield their family from this mayhem. In-kyung, meanwhile, sticks to her guns and pursues her lead: a video meet with an orchid expert earns her an address — the same one her dead contact gave her.

The last surprise comes from Do-il. He’s been investigating records in Singapore, discovering an apartment, a business school entry, and seven different bank accounts — all under the name Oh In-joo. Hwa-young was using her friend’s identity to construct a third secret life. The conclusion is clear: In-joo must visit Singapore.

Holy Gothic horror, folks. Among others, this week’s theme has been space, and the places our characters find themselves. The Oh family flat is bursting at the worn-out seams with love — but is it nourishing, or suffocating? For In-hye, the answer is clear. And for all that In-joo and In-kyung cling onto one another fiercely, they’re all too often found arguing in narrow doorways, or making themselves small as the walls dominate the camera shot.

If you’re wealthy like the Won family, you may find yourself in airy, spacious rooms that subtly echo the aesthetic of a Louisa May Alcott film adaptation. But, perhaps you’ll be more comfortable free on an open balcony, like Hyo-rin. Perhaps a dark, aseptic sprawl of a room, like Aunt Oh, where luxury touches everything — and love, very little. Or, alternatively, you’ll find yourself in a semi-enchanted secret chamber, like Sang-ah, screened from the eyes of the world. Money buys privacy, after all. Money, in fact, determines the very world you inhabit.

Shout-out to Eom Ji-won for bringing the creepy with effortless mastery — Sang-ah is easily becoming one of my favorite villains. Her lyrical voice and immaculate poise make her the sort of sweet that you only realize belatedly is poison. In fact, our whole cast are acting their hearts out! It’s a thrill to see. Here’s hoping next week will shed a little more light on the In-seon mystery… but for now, we can but speculate!

 
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Source: Buzz Pinay Daily