I waited for her to appear in front of me in the café.
But nothing happened.
Instead, I fell asleep without realizing it—and when I opened my eyes, it was already 1 AM. I freaked out and slammed my hands on the table. It was strange that the lights were still on. I turned around and saw the girl who worked at the café. She looked gloomy and tired. And yeah… I was still annoyed at her.
I couldn't help myself, so I called out to her. I even shouted.
"Hey, girl! You there!"
I stuttered a bit, but she still gave me a glare.
"What, bastard!?"
In my mind, I was even more irritated.
Now she was calling me bastard too.
But I had no choice—I needed to ask.
"When will you guys close? It's already 1 AM."
"Oh, about that—can't you read?"
"Huh?"
"Look at the very big sign in front of you."
She grinned at me with a smirk, holding her chin like she was mocking me.
I slowly turned around and looked at the banner behind the counter.
There, in huge capital letters, it said:
OPEN FOR 24 HOURS.
Yeah… she was annoyingly right again.
Why didn't I notice it earlier?
I'm totally going crazy about this.
Feeling embarrassed, I finally stood up and left the café without saying a word. I walked home since the café wasn't far from my house. I kicked small rocks along the road as I walked, annoyed at myself.
I thought—and concluded—that what I saw wasn't real.
But I couldn't help the fact that she was still on my mind.
I scratched my hair with both hands.
"Uagggghhhh!"
Unfortunately, the weather changed drastically. A cold shiver ran down my spine as the wind grew stronger. I sighed in relief that I wore a thick jacket. I looked around and noticed there were barely any people outside anymore.
I saw a bench on the empty side of the road. Feeling exhausted, I decided to sit there.
I sat quietly, watching every car pass by in front of me. In each window, I saw my reflection flicker for a second—again and again. Every time a car passed, I saw myself.
But little by little…
I couldn't see my own face anymore.
"Huh!?" My eyes widened.
"Is it her...?"
I slowly looked beside me, nervous.
Before turning, I reminded myself—
This is what I came for.
I can finally talk to you.
I clenched my hands to calm my nerves and forced myself to smile.
The atmosphere shifted.
The air felt heavy.
I could barely breathe.
But finally, I turned my head slowly… and looked at her.
She was sitting beside me.
Her mouth wasn't smiling this time—it was resting naturally. And I could see her lips now. Human lips. Bright red lipstick. Glossy. Almost too perfect.
Rather than being scared…
I thought she was cute.
Wait—what was I even thinking!?
My thoughts scrambled. I reached out, about to touch her hand and finally speak to her—
When suddenly, another hand covered mine.
Strangely, I fell asleep instantly.
It was like someone just forced me to sleep.
In my mind, I thought:
Ahhh, I messed up again…
---
(During Zizy's sleep)
"I told you already—don't let other people see you."
The voice came from the person who put Zizy to sleep. They wore a black jacket, black gloves, and a black mask that covered their entire face.
The girl in the red dress stayed quiet.
"I'm going now," the masked person said, turning away—then stopping. They turned back again.
"If I ever find you letting yourself be seen by this person again…
I'll make her forget you. Understood?"
The girl clenched her fists.
Her lips turned downward.
She hesitated before softly answering:
"…Understood."
The masked person walked away, and the girl disappeared—
Leaving Zizy behind on the empty road.
---
After falling asleep in the middle of the road, Mom must've found me and brought me here.
But… then why am I in a hospital?
My chest tightens as I sit up. The room around me is far too large—too polished, too bright. It doesn't feel like a normal hospital room. It feels like a place for people who matter.
"Did Mom… seriously put me in a VIP room?"
"Or is this hospital just ridiculously expensive?!"
A pit opens in my stomach. Of course she did. Of course I made things worse.
I drop back onto the pillows, letting exhaustion swallow me whole.
And then—
The sadness comes.
It creeps up slowly, then strikes all at once. My throat closes. My eyes burn. I stare at the ceiling like it might give me answers.
"Mom…"
"She must be disappointed…"
"She must think I'm useless…"
"What was she thinking when she saw me like that…?"
"Is she… okay?"
My last words come out broken, almost inaudible.
I don't even recognize my own voice.
Tears slip down the sides of my face. I grab the pillow behind me and press it over my eyes, muffling the small, pathetic sounds I make.
"I'm so sorry, Mom… I'm so, so sorry…"
"Wait...I finally met her again!?"
---
At the same time, at that night.
Lory was finishing her investigation, shoulders stiff from hours of stress.
Detective. Former lawyer. Woman who gave up everything after one terrifying case.
And mother—of a daughter she barely understood anymore.
She stepped out into the night just as a woman passed by carrying her young child. The child giggled softly, clutching her mother's shirt.
Something inside Lory twisted.
She paused.
Memories of Zizy flashed—tiny hands grabbing her sleeve, a bright little smile, that voice that used to call "Mommy" without hesitation.
A smile ghosted across Lory's face. But it didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm really sorry, Zizy…" she whispered, guilt cracking her voice.
"I couldn't be the mother you needed."
She forced in a breath.
"No… Not anymore. I'll do better. I'll try. I have to."
She gazed up at the starry sky and lifted her fist weakly, a small gesture of determination.
She got into her car, ready to go home—
But then she saw her.
A figure lying on a bench.
Lory's heart dropped.
"ZIZY?!"
She slammed the door open and rushed to her. The moment she touched her daughter's forehead, panic stabbed through her.
A high fever.
A trembling body.
A pale, exhausted face.
"No, no, no…" Lory whispered, voice shaking as she lifted her daughter into her arms.
"Not again… I can't lose you, too…"
Her hands trembled as she carried her into the car and sped to the nearest hospital.
---
Hours later, when the doctor finished explaining everything, Lory didn't even think.
"I… I need a bigger room. One where I can stay."
Her voice cracked. "I can't leave my child alone."
The nurses exchanged looks, then nodded.
Inside the room, a curtain separated the bed from the couch. Lory sat down, exhausted, staring at the faint outline of her daughter's figure behind the curtain.
She reached out a hand, stopping just before touching the fabric—like she could almost reach Zizy, but not quite.
"I'm sorry, Zizy…" she whispered into the darkness.
"I don't know how to reach you anymore."
And with that, exhaustion finally claimed her, and she fell asleep—still reaching toward the daughter she was terrified of losing.