As ti passed, Heeju found herself increasingly isolated.
She no longer wanted to answer calls from her sister or Director Hanjoon, who were both worried about her ntal state. Once again, she shut herself away at ho.
Yet, before the phone could even finish ringing—Ring—!—she would answer it with the speed of a squirrel.
"Hello?"
—...
The breathing on the other end was different this ti. It sounded like it caught mid-inhale, as if sothing was stuck.
"Why do you only call once a day?"
—...
"Can’t you call more often?"
—...
Call her crazy.
Call it a ntal illness.
With her eyes tightly shut, Heeju spoke.
"I’ll find you."
—...
"So just wait for ."
—...
"No matter where you are, I’ll co and find you."
Even if it’s a ghost, I’ll find you.
She clutched her phone with all the strength she could muster.
***
The prison was stark and cold, a place she had never set foot in before.
Heeju fidgeted with her neatly arranged clothes, tugging at them nervously as she sat in the visitation room, waiting.
Before long, a man appeared with a guard. It was Park Do-jae, Baek Saeon’s forr personal aide.
Heeju knew all too well how close he had been to Baek Saeon.
"Hello," she greeted softly.
Park Do-jae avoided her gaze.
His appearance spoke volus about the hardships of prison life. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his lips were cracked, and he walked with a limp, his body looking battered and broken.
"I ca to see you, Mr. Park, because…"
Heeju swallowed hard, then asked,
"Where is he?"
"…!"
Park Do-jae froze, his eyes locking onto hers.
"I know this sounds crazy. I know I must sound like a lunatic. But it’s just a feeling. A gut feeling."
"…"
"Sotis in life, you have to throw yourself into sothing that makes no sense. For , this is one of those tis. Where is he?"
"I don’t know."
His answer was flat, emotionless.
Park Do-jae turned his head sharply, making it clear he had no intention of answering further. He gestured to the guard and started to stand.
At that mont, Heeju grabbed his wrist.
"You were the one who pushed ."
"…!"
Park Do-jae looked at her, his face going pale.
"It was you at the workshop. You pushed , didn’t you?"
"…!"
"Should we start by addressing that?"
His gaze faltered, his resolve wavering under her words.
Park Do-jae reluctantly sat back down, cornered by her veiled threat.
Heeju had grown used to using leverage; after all, it was the only skill she had honed over the past month.
"It seems like you’re having a hard ti here."
"…!"
"So answer my questions properly."
She fixed him with a piercing glare.
"Even though my in-laws have been completely ruined, I’m still the daughter of the deputy editor of Sankyung Daily. My influence outweighs that of soone locked up in prison, don’t you think?"
"…"
Their eyes clashed in the air, but then Heeju relaxed her shoulders and softened her tone.
"I’m not here to judge you. I just want to know what you know about Baek Saeon—"
"My younger sister disappeared when she was a child."
Park Do-jae interrupted her, his voice trembling.
"Our family was ruined because of it. It was the late '90s, during a period when child disappearances were rampant. My father quit his job and searched the entire country."
"…"
"Our apartnt, once over thirty pyeong, shrank to twenty. Then we moved to a villa, then to a semi-basent studio in less than three years."
His voice grew darker with each word.
"My mother fell into depression, then ntal exhaustion, and eventually passed away."
"…"
"That’s when I t Professor Sim."
"…!"
"The reason I stayed by Mr. Baek’s side all this ti…"
His gaze was hollow, devoid of light.
"Professor Sim told it was Baek Saeon who had hurt my sister."
"…!"
"I assud it was the senior Baek. Naturally, I thought it was his father."
Park Do-jae ran a hand over his face, the chains on his cuffs clinking faintly.
"I didn’t know it wasn’t him."
His face contorted with a pain that seed almost unbearable.
"I was helping the very person who ruined my family."
A dry laugh escaped his cracked lips.
The ti he pushed Heeju.
The ti he removed the negotiation phone from her hiking bag to avoid discovery.
The tis he tampered with location tracking or destroyed audio files to hide the source of threatening calls.
All of it was his doing.
He had been a pawn in Sim Gyujin’s sches, manipulated by both him and his son. And he hadn’t even realized he was becoming just like them.
Finally, Park Do-jae straightened his hunched shoulders and spoke clearly.
"…He’s alive."
Heeju’s eyes widened in shock.
"He’s alive. At least, if he’s the man I know, he is."
***
“It’s probably the work of the Blue House’s planning team. Professor Sim and his biological son had already planned to blow up the Baek Jangho morial Hall from the start.”
“If Mr. Baek knew about the plan, the real question is—which Baek Saeon actually died?”
Heeju frantically stuffed clothes into her suitcase when the front door burst open. The sound of stomping footsteps echoed loudly through the house.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
Hong In-ah’s furious voice cut through the air.
"I thought I misheard!"
"…"
"What—? You’re going to the Republic of Argan?"
Hands on her hips, In-ah let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs called , saying they received a special passport application. And guess what? The na was Hong Heeju. They even asked if it was part of a Sankyung Daily assignnt."
Heeju rely shrugged, her gaze fixed on her clothes as she continued to pack.
"I figured I’d use my family’s chaebol privilege for once."
"Are you insane? What on earth makes you think you can go there? Do you even know what kind of place that is?"
"…"
Heeju stayed silent, ticulously folding her clothes.
If Baek Saeon was in hiding, Park Do-jae had said, it could only be in the Republic of Argan.
It was where he had served during his military duty, the place that had first thrown him into the chaos of civil conflict. Park Do-jae had spoken with unwavering certainty.
In-ah, growing increasingly agitated, grabbed Heeju’s arm.
"Snap out of it!"
"…"
"You’re doing all of this because of Baek Saeon, aren’t you?"
Heeju looked her sister in the eye, her silence carrying an unshakable resolve. In-ah’s expression crumpled, and she ran a hand through her hair in frustration.
"I told you to wait a little longer. I’m already investigating this. There’s definitely sothing suspicious, so just give a bit more ti—"
"Sis."
Heeju gently took In-ah’s frantic hands.
"Thank you for running away that day."
"…!"
"Thank you for giving the chance to stay by his side."
Her soft words made In-ah’s eyes tremble.
"But if you’re taking care of out of guilt—"
Heeju’s grip tightened on her sister’s hands.
"—you can stop now."
"…!"
"I haven’t lost anything."
There was a calm smile on Heeju’s face as she said it.
"So please, if you care about for reasons other than guilt, let go without asking questions."
"…You’re going there to die."
"No, I’m going there to speak."
In-ah turned her head away, hiding the redness in her eyes.
Argan was a dangerous place. Yet, she couldn’t stop Heeju.
After all, how was this any different from the ti she herself had fled to escape a forced marriage, risking her life for illegal experintal surgery?
A distant, indifferent father, a shallow, materialistic stepmother, and her own selfishness—In-ah often thought they were a fitting trio.
The only exception was Hong Heeju, who had grown up like coral between them, transparent and genuine, exposing her innermost thoughts like clear water.
That small hand had saved her during the days when she couldn’t hear anything.
"I guess… I really was too late," In-ah muttered, embracing Heeju tightly.
It felt as though Baek Saeon had taken her sister away entirely.
"I should’ve just gone through with the wedding back then."
"You can’t now," Heeju said firmly, her determination unwavering.
Sniffling, In-ah rubbed her nose, her frustration giving way to reluctant acceptance.
***
The blazing sun beat down relentlessly.
Beyond the ruins of half-collapsed buildings, the cool, erald sea shimred in the distance.
Heeju pulled her worn scarf up to cover her nose.
The salty sea breeze mixed with sand and dust that found its way into her mouth, sparking a constant, sharp thirst.
She licked her parched lips and quickened her pace.
This land, a foreign country of sprawling grasslands and deserts, had been mired in chaos for over twenty years.
Tattered flags lay abandoned on the ground, and makeshift tents scattered around were already in tatters.
Passing by these remnants of devastation, Heeju climbed a low hill overgrown with bushes.
Buvin Special Care Facility.
As she lowered the scarf wrapped around her face, a child waved eagerly at her, signing, "Teacher!"
"Keep your head down, and stay quiet...!"
Heeju rushed over to the group of more than a dozen children.
It had been two months since she arrived in the Republic of Argan, working under the guise of an international sign language interpreter.
Here, at a care facility for deaf children, she had taken on the role of their teacher, instructing them in sign language.
"Heeju, quickly!"
The facility’s director beckoned her with clumsy English, urging her forward.
According to the director’s informants, a street battle was expected to erupt in the area tonight. Now, they were in the process of moving the children to a nearby UN tent for safety.
Suddenly, the rough growl of an engine echoed in the distance.
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