The rain had stopped by morning, leaving the garden washed clean. Hana stood under the veranda, watching droplets slide off the leaves. Mi-Ho joined her, coffee in hand.
"You barely slept," he said quietly.
"There's a lot on my mind."
"About him?" His voice was low, but his meaning clear — the man who had once owned her shadow.
Hana nodded. "He's not done. Men like him don't just disappear."
Mi-Ho's jaw tightened. "Then we make sure he has no way back in."
She turned to face him. "That's the problem. If we fight him like everyone else does, he'll always have another move. I don't want to play his game."
Mi-Ho studied her, recognizing the quiet steel in her voice. "Then we change the rules."
They didn't need more words. They stood there, side by side, letting the silence bind them in a promise neither had spoken aloud — they would win, but on their own terms.
Inside, So-Yeon was already at work, combing through files, digging into every connection that man still had. "He's slippery," she muttered, "but every snake sheds its skin eventually."
Hana joined her. "Then we'll be there to catch it."
For the first time in years, Hana didn't feel like she was running from the past. She was walking straight toward it, eyes open.
And this time, she wasn't alone.