The silence that followed the slamming door hung in the air like smoke. Chaeyoung stood frozen on the porch, her eyes still fixed on the wooden panel in front of her, though Yoona was long gone. A part of her had expected this—but not the overwhelming tide of emotions that came with it.
"She didn't budge?" Joon asked quietly, watching her from the bottom step.
Chaeyoung didn't turn around. "Let's just... go."
"That easily? I mean—we came all the way to another city to find your sister, and when we finally do, you want to leave?"
"If you're not going, then I will." Her voice was sharp, but her eyes betrayed her. "She's legally adopted. I can't drag her away. What's the point?"
She turned, walking off with stiff steps that didn't match the shakiness in her chest.
Chaeyoung hated this—feeling uncertain, out of control. She built her world on certainty. The way she ruled Dulwich, the way people stepped aside when she walked the halls—none of that prepared her for the stinging uncertainty she felt now.
Lim Yoona.
The same girl she had cast out, humiliated publicly for lies and pretenses. The same girl who once dared to climb the social ladder without permission.
But there she was. Bushy hair, bare face, same mole.
That mole.
It didn't lie. It was the same mole Yeojin had when she was little. The same face in old photo frames, the one that haunted her dreams.
Had she been wrong all along?
Was Yoona faking it again?
Or... was this her punishment for being so certain all her life?
Joon followed a few steps behind, watching Chaeyoung's silhouette grow smaller under the streetlight.
He'd seen this side of her only once—when she thought no one was watching, crying silently inside the bus, on their way to Deongducheon. That was when he started paying attention. That was when he started falling.
"Wait," he said, jogging to catch up. "Let's stop by the internet café we passed earlier."
She shot him a glance. "For what?"
"You need proof. If she's your sister, you need to know for sure. If she's not, you deserve peace."
She didn't argue this time. She just followed.
Yoona leaned against the door after slamming it shut, breathing heavily.
"Chaeyoung," she whispered bitterly.
Of all people.
Of all days.
"What was she doing here?" She muttered, eyes narrowing.
The past clawed at her skin. The whispers in the hallway. The fact Chaeyoung had the power to expel her. The betrayal. She still remembered how her friends turned on her the second Chaeyoung lifted a finger. Her reputation? Gone. Her dreams? Buried.
And now, Chaeyoung came to her house demanding answers?
She should've laughed.
But she couldn't. Because part of her had seen something in Chaeyoung's eyes. Fear. Hope. Guilt.
And that scared her.
***
Back in Seoul, Jaehwan stood on the school rooftop, staring at the city skyline.
Chaeyoung still hadn't texted back.
She never ghosted. Even at her worst, she responded with a cold emoji or a dismissive "K."
Now? Nothing.
He scrolled through her socials. No updates. Not like she ever updated.
He wasn't used to feeling powerless. But this wasn't about pride—it was about her. She was unraveling, and he had no idea where she was or what she was doing.
And that made him furious.
"Cheers to a quiet house and no scandals!" Jongnan toasted, clinking glasses with Eunji.
The mansion was glowing in gold, music humming low in the background.
Eunji smiled, lounging on the couch in a silk robe, all high cheekbones and higher ambitions.
Jongnan felt it—peace. Actual peace.
Then his phone buzzed.
[Anonymous: Nice house. Hope the past doesn't ruin it.]
The glass slipped from his hand and shattered.
Eunji turned sharply. "What happened?"
He handed her the phone with shaking fingers.
They both stared at the message, then at each other.
Eunji's heart dropped.
She knew it the moment she saw the message.
Someone knew.
Someone knew about Yeojin. Not only that— someone knew about everything that happened 11 years ago
She had spent years rewriting history—doctoring documents, paying off officials, inventing a new life for Yoona, all to ensure one secret never saw the light of day.
But someone had cracked the seal.
And if Chaeyoung found out the truth... if she realized what her parents had done...
It would be the end.
Not just of their reputation—but of everything.
"We handle it," she said coldly. "No loose ends. Not this time."
***
The glow of the computer screen lit Joon's face as he clicked through encrypted adoption files. Chaeyoung sat beside him, arms crossed, trying not to seem nervous.
"There," Joon muttered.
He opened Yoona's adoption file.
Birth name: Min Seo-yeon
Chaeyoung blinked. "Not Yeojin?"
"No. She's not your sister."
She stared at the screen, then away.
Relief. Shame. Disappointment.
But then—Joon clicked again.
There was a second file.
Kim Yeojin. File sealed. Government access only.
Joon looked at her. "Someone buried her deep."
Chaeyoung stood, her voice low. "Then we dig deeper."
***
As they left the PC bang, a figure in black took a photo of them from across the street and disappeared down an alley.
Inside the house, Yoona watched from the window.
She whispered to the little girl clinging to her side, "Go to your room."
"Unnie looked like me," the girl said softly.
Yoona didn't respond.
She shut the curtains.
Some truths had teeth.
And they weren't ready to be let out.
***
It began to rain.
Not the kind that stormed in with wind and fury, but the quiet, dripping kind—the one that made the city feel heavier than it already was.
Chaeyoung walked ahead, not caring that her shoes were soaked or that her jacket was clinging to her arms. Her mind was a storm of its own.
Min Seo-yeon. That was Yoona's birth name.
So why the mole?
Why the coincidence?
Was this a cruel joke?
"I shouldn't have come," she muttered.
Behind her, Joon jogged to keep up, shielding his phone from the rain as he typed something quickly.
"Wait," he said, holding up the screen. "There's another name tied to the orphanage's hidden log."
Chaeyoung turned slightly, her eyes narrowing.
"Kim Yeojin. Listed as 'deceased in official report'... but this log says she was placed under 'restricted rehoming protocol' eleven years ago."
Chaeyoung's heart skipped.
"She's not dead?" She whispered.
Joon nodded slowly. "I think someone made it look that way."
***
Yoona didn't sleep that night.
The girl—Minhee—had crawled into her bed, afraid of the thunder, and now lay curled up beside her, snoring lightly.
But Yoona couldn't close her eyes.
Not when Chaeyoung's voice still echoed in her ears. Not when the past she'd tried to forget banged on her front door like it had rights.
She wasn't Yeojin. She had no ties to Chaeyoung, and she didn't want any.
Still, something inside her twisted.
The same Chaeyoung who ruined her life... had looked broken.
It unsettled her more than it should have.
And more than that—why had Yeojin's name been mentioned?
She hadn't heard that name since—
No.
She wouldn't go there.
***
The office was dark except for the soft hum of surveillance monitors.
Jongnan stared at the pixelated freeze-frame: Chaeyoung and Joon outside the orphanage gate.
He leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin.
"They're digging," he muttered.
A glass of untouched whiskey sat on the desk beside him.
Eunji entered, heels clicking sharply on marble.
"She knows," she said before he could speak.
Jongnan gave a small nod. "Not everything. But it's only a matter of time."
Eunji's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll have to move her."
"The girl?"
"No," she said coldly. "Yeojin."
***
The motel room smelled like cigarette smoke and old soap.
Joon sat on the edge of the creaky bed, typing furiously on his laptop while Chaeyoung stared blankly at the ceiling from across the room.
"Why didn't you tell Jaehwan?" he asked after a while.
"Tell him what?"
"That you were leaving. That you were doing this."
Chaeyoung shrugged. "He's not the kind of guy who understands 'personal.' He'd try to fix it with money or charm."
Joon smiled sadly. "And me?"
"You're annoying... but you get it."
Silence fell again.
Then—
"I think I found something," he said, spinning the laptop toward her.
On the screen was a photo—grainy, time-stamped eleven years ago.
A small girl with a recognizable mole.
Held by a woman whose face had been blurred out in the file metadata.
Chaeyoung leaned in, heart racing. "That's her."
"I traced the metadata to an old employee account," Joon said. "The woman's name is Nari Choi. She used to work at the orphanage, then disappeared."
Chaeyoung's voice was firm now. "Find her."
***
Jaehwan couldn't sleep.
The city lights blinked outside his penthouse window. Music played softly from his vinyl player, but the notes couldn't reach the corners of his mind.
He dialed Chaeyoung's number again.
Straight to voicemail.
He paced, then called Joon. No answer either.
"Where the hell are you?" He whispered.
A knock at the door startled him.
When he opened it, his secretary stood there, holding a brown envelope.
"This was sent anonymously," she said. "No return address."
Jaehwan opened it.
Inside was a photo.
Chaeyoung. Standing outside a run-down house in Dongducheon. Staring at a girl who looked just like her.
And written on the back—
"The dead don't stay buried. -E."
***
Eunji watched from the second-floor balcony as their driver pulled the black van into the garage.
Inside the van: three large crates, carefully locked.
Inside one of those crates: the answer to a question Chaeyoung wasn't supposed to ask.
Eunji lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. Not minding the life she carried in her womb.
She had warned Jongnan not to keep the child alive.
"You get soft, and you get sloppy," she'd said.
But Jongnan loved playing savior. Loved the idea of controlling a secret like it was a prized pet.
Now?
Now the pet might bite.
***
The next day, Chaeyoung and Joon returned to the orphanage during visiting hours. They weren't supposed to be there, but Joon's fake ID and hacked appointment request got them in.
They slipped through corridors like ghosts, dodging staff.
And then they found the room.
Old, dusty. Clearly unused.
Inside: forgotten boxes, files, photos.
And a drawing.
A child's crayon sketch.
Two girls holding hands.
One had a name scrawled under it: "Yoona."
The other?
"Yeojin."
Chaeyoung's hands trembled as she picked it up.
"Yoona... knew her," she whispered.
"They were in the orphanage at the same time," Joon added.
But Yoona never said a word.
Not even when she slammed the door.
Not even when Chaeyoung had asked if she was adopted.
Which meant...
She knew something.
And chose to lie.
***
Yoona stood outside the old church where Minhee's music class was held.
The rain had stopped.
The clouds hadn't.
She stared at the ground, her fists clenched in her coat pockets.
Yeojin.
The girl who she braided her hair.
The girl who once said, "I'll become rich and then I'll buy lots of stuffs for you, mum and dad!"
The girl who died eleven years ago.
And now her sister had come knocking.
Not Yeojin.
Chaeyoung.
The one who tore apart everything Yoona had tried to build.
And yet—
And yet her eyes weren't as cruel this time.
They were afraid.
That's what scared Yoona the most.
Not that Chaeyoung had come...
But that she might not give up.