‘—Live freely for the rest of your life, and maybe think of every now and then.’
Hong Heeju abandoned the laundry she was folding and stood up abruptly.
His way of speaking was always cryptic and elusive, but this ti, she felt she couldn’t afford to miss the signal.
Her feet moved instinctively, leaving no ti to weigh or reconsider old wounds.
‘It can’t end like this…!’
She scrambled to find her coat and car keys when the phone rang.
The mont she checked the caller ID and answered, her sister’s frantic voice exploded.
"—Where are you?! Are you anywhere near the morial hall?"
Heeju tapped the tablet twice, signaling "no." Her sister hesitated, her tone faltering.
"…You saw the news, didn’t you?"
Heeju recalled that her sister had been the first to publish an exclusive article about the scandal.
"I… I tried to figure out who the other woman in the recordings was, but I couldn’t."
"…"
"The audio files were scrubbed of her voice entirely. It’s like soone was trying to protect her."
Her sister huffed in frustration.
"I should’ve stopped this marriage earlier…! Damn it, I’m so angry!"
"Don’t co here, Heeju. Stay ho today, okay? This place is packed with reporters—you can’t even take a step. And it feels off."
There was an urgency in her sister’s voice, a mix of panic and unease.
"Ugh… Why does this feel so ominous?"
Her sister’s breathing grew heavier, as if she was running sowhere.
"Where the hell is Baek Saeon broadcasting from? All the reporters are here, so who’s he doing the live broadcast with?"
Heeju grabbed a coat and moved toward the living room.
"Ugh, shit… Did I jump in too quickly? God, this is driving insane. What the hell is going on?"
Her sister’s voice, strained and distant, pierced through the receiver.
"Heeju, has Baek Saeon been acting weird lately?"
Heeju tapped hurriedly on the tablet, urging her sister to continue. After a pause, her sister sighed heavily.
"I’m sorry… Actually, that affair article? Your husband tipped off."
"…!"
What?
Who… tipped her off?
"But the more I think about it, it’s strange. Why would Baek Saeon do sothing that tarnishes his own image? That’s not like him."
Heeju, standing frozen, turned on the TV as if in a trance.
"He even called for a press conference, but none of the reporters can get in. We’re all stuck in the screening room. So what the hell is this live broadcast…?"
Her sister’s voice faded as Heeju’s gaze locked onto the screen.
‘The individual in question is not my mistress. I have never betrayed the obligations or trust of my marriage. Such allegations are deeply offensive.’
The blatant lie made her stomach churn.
‘The woman ntioned in the recordings is Sagong Yuk.’
"…!"
What?
What did he just say?
Sagong Yuk… his wife?
Did he know?
How long has he known?
Frozen in place, Heeju stared at the TV, unable to even blink.
She had to see him. Now.
She had to find him and ask… Had he known all along? Known everything, yet still…
Her hands fumbled desperately for the car keys.
‘I am not the son of Candidate Baek Uiyong. I am not the grandson of Baek Jangho. I am the illegitimate child of the late Representative Baek Jangho, born when he was seventy.’
The calm, steady voice continued as she froze mid-motion, her body bent toward the drawer.
Slowly, she blinked, her thoughts spinning.
‘You may question my origins further, but I can tell you one truth without hesitation.’
"…"
‘I am the husband of one woman. That is the only na and position I have earned for myself.’
Her bent body stiffened as her hand faltered, grasping at random objects before dropping them again.
‘Finally, as a Baek—’
"…!"
Her eyes widened abruptly.
It was a ssage ant for her alone—a secret code between them.
‘Co find .’
At that mont, the live broadcast cut out abruptly.
"…!"
Her legs buckled beneath her.
A sense of foreboding gripped her heart.
She had to go to him. Now.
They hadn’t yet said the things that needed to be said.
Not a single important word had been exchanged. She’d been too cowardly, too calculating, fearing the vulnerability of exposing her heart.
But maybe he had fears too. Maybe his fear was love.
Just as she finally grabbed her car keys, sothing outside the window caught her eye.
A massive plu of black smoke erupted into the blue sky.
Where is that…?
Her dazed mind struggled to piece it together.
Where is Baek Saeon right now?
From the phone, her sister’s panicked scream broke through.
"—It exploded… The morial hall exploded!"
***
Breaking News: Explosion at Baek Jangho morial Hall
"Accident or Terror Attack? Gas Pipeline Explosion Suspected"
The breaking news updates kept flashing on the taxi's screen as Heeju trembled, her fingers shaking uncontrollably.
Her lips, bitten raw, and her pallid complexion made her look like soone who had already stepped out of this world.
"Please…"
She kept calling Baek Saeon, but there was no response.
By the ti she arrived, the Baek Jangho morial Hall was in complete chaos.
Ergency vehicles, firefighters, and police officers crowded the scene. Reporters, pushed back behind yellow caution tape, were shouting into their phones.
The building, partially collapsed, had one wall completely caved in. Twisted steel beams jutted out like exposed bones, and the air was thick with choking dust, making people cough intermittently.
The acrid stench of gas made Heeju feel faint, but she pressed forward.
"You can’t go in. Step back!"
A police officer blocked her path.
"I… I need to…"
She stamred, her feet shuffling nervously.
"There’s a risk of secondary explosions or further collapse. Please follow safety protocols and stay back!"
Biting her lip, Heeju reluctantly stepped away, her heart racing.
Where is he…?
Even as she was jostled by the crowd, she stayed near the ambulances, searching desperately.
Please, please be safe…
Her eyes, blurred by the dust, darted around like those of a lost child.
Where should I go now? Where could he be?
The building, once majestic, was now a grotesque wreck, its forr grandeur unrecognizable. The sky above remained shrouded in ashen smoke.
And then, she saw a familiar face.
"…!"
Stretching her neck, Heeju pushed through the crowd, chasing the faint image.
It was her mother-in-law, Sim Gyu-jin.
She stood staring blankly at the collapsed building, her hair and shoulders covered in cent dust.
When Heeju ran up, Sim Gyu-jin turned, startled by the presence.
"Daughter…"
Her bloodshot eyes shimred red.
"What… what is all this?"
Her tear-streaked face left Heeju at a loss for words.
How could she explain it?
The fact that the true identity of the blackmailer was the real Baek Saeon, and that the man who had been living under that na was rely Baek Jangho’s illegitimate son?
Heeju didn’t know how to face her.
"Or perhaps… he was just your brother-in-law all along?"
"…!"
Her mother-in-law’s trembling lips curved into an unsettling smile. Before Heeju could react, a hand grabbed her wrist tightly.
"Ugh…!"
The grip was unyielding.
Sim Gyu-jin pulled her daughter-in-law into an embrace, pressing her face into her shoulder.
"Child, in negotiations, patience is the most important thing. That’s what I’ve learned and taught my whole life. That’s why I decided to live with my head low."
Her icy voice cut like a blade.
"So that I could one day hold the grandest funeral for my son."
"…!"
"I endured, and endured…"
Though her shoulders seed to shake as if crying, Heeju knew better.
It wasn’t tears—she was laughing. The faint chuckling vibrated through her body.
"Now everyone will know that Baek Saeon is dead."
"…!"
"Everyone will know my son is gone."
Her voice, filled with deep resentnt, carried a chilling detachnt.
"So, it’s ti to take back the phone that has served its purpose."
She whispered into Heeju’s ear.
Heeju froze like a trapped animal.
"No… no…"
Her stiff neck twisted slowly, her gaze eting the cold, shadowed eyes of her mother-in-law.
"Child, hand it over."
Sim Gyu-jin’s hand slipped into her coat pocket. She rummaged through both sides and finally retrieved the phone.
Mother…
Her lips moved soundlessly.
Sim Gyu-jin examined the phone with an unreadable expression. Her face was cold, yet tinged with sorrow.
"Foolish girl."
Years ago, Sim Gyu-jin had t her presud-dead son in prison.
It was because of persistent phone calls to her company.
But their reunion had been brief.
Her son, imprisoned for multiple assault charges and attempted murder.
Her biological son, reeking of filth, with blackened nails.
When he cried, "Mother, Mother—!" while claiming to have regained his mories, she had only furrowed her brow slightly.
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