Morning came, but warmth did not.
Kim Hwayeon woke to a house that felt unfamiliar, as though it no longer belonged to her. The air was heavy, thick with tension that pressed against her chest the moment she opened her eyes.
She sat up slowly, listening.
There were voices downstairs.
Her heart tightened.
Carefully, she slipped out of bed and padded toward the staircase, her small hands gripping the banister as she leaned closer.
"I will not accept this," her mother's voice rang out, firm but trembling beneath the surface. "You brought another woman and child into this house without even asking me."
Hwayeon held her breath.
Her father's reply was calm — too calm. "They are my responsibility."
"And what am I?" her mother demanded. "What is our daughter?"
There was a pause.
A dangerous one.
"You are being emotional," he said at last. "Everything is already done."
Hwayeon's stomach dropped.
Everything… done?
Her mother laughed softly, bitterly. "You transferred everything into your name," she said. "The company. The properties. Even the house."
"So you noticed," her father replied.
Hwayeon pressed her hand to her mouth.
She did not understand business or ownership, but she understood the coldness in his voice. It was the same tone he used when he did not care.
"I married you in good faith," her mother continued. "You used me. You used my family."
Mrs Kang's gentle voice slipped into the conversation like poison wrapped in silk. "Please don't misunderstand. He never meant to hurt you. We only want peace."
Peace.
Hwayeon clenched her fists.
Her mother's voice sharpened. "Peace? You stand in my home and speak of peace?"
"She is my wife," her father interrupted.
The words fell like thunder.
Hwayeon felt dizzy.
Wife?
Her legs weakened, and she sank onto the stairs silently, tears pooling in her eyes.
So it was true.
Everything was real.
Moments later, footsteps approached. Hwayeon scrambled back into the hallway and returned to her room, shutting the door just as her mother entered.
Her mother looked exhausted.
Her eyes were red, her shoulders slumped, as though something inside her had finally broken.
"Hwayeon," she called softly.
Hwayeon rushed forward, throwing her arms around her mother. "Mother…"
Her mother hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her daughter's hair. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then her mother pulled back and knelt in front of her, holding her shoulders.
"Hwayeon," she said carefully, "come with me."
The words struck harder than expected.
"Where?" Hwayeon asked, her voice small.
"Somewhere safe," her mother replied. "Away from here."
Hwayeon hesitated.
Her mind filled instantly with one face.
Lee Dohyun.
Her neighbor. Her first friend. The boy who smiled at her like she was something precious. The boy who promised they would grow up together.
"But…" Hwayeon whispered, lowering her gaze.
Her mother followed her eyes and understood immediately.
Her expression softened — then hardened.
"Hwayeon," she said gently but firmly, "love cannot protect you. Staying here will only hurt you."
Hwayeon's lips trembled. "I don't want to be alone."
Her mother closed her eyes.
That single sentence decided everything.
By afternoon, suitcases were packed.
Hwayeon stood in the living room, watching as servants moved quietly around them. Mrs Kang hovered nearby, already acting like the mistress of the house, while Kim Yuri sat beside Hwayeon's father, her small hand gripping his sleeve.
Hwayeon noticed it.
And for the first time, something ugly stirred in her chest.
Her mother stood by the door, fully dressed, her posture straight despite the sadness in her eyes.
"Hwayeon," she said one last time, "this door will not always be open for you."
Hwayeon swallowed.
"I'll visit," she promised. "I'll come often."
Her mother looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.
She did not say what she was really thinking.
You will regret this.
The door closed behind her mother with a quiet click.
Hwayeon ran to the window, pressing her palms against the glass as she watched the carriage disappear down the road.
Her chest felt hollow.
That night, she sat alone in her room.
The laughter was gone.
The warmth was gone.
Only silence remained.
A soft knock sounded at the window.
Hwayeon looked up, startled.
Outside stood Lee Taeheon.
He did not smile.
He did not wave.
He simply looked at her — at the tear-streaked face of a girl who had just made the first mistake of her life.
The mistake that would cost her everything.