The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.
Hana listened, saying nothing, just letting the confession spill out. She'd learned this trick years ago—silence invited more honesty than any question could.
"My mom died when I was eight," Yuna continued, her voice shrinking, becoming smaller and younger with each word. "Car accident. So Gareth's mom always looked after me when Dad was working late. Which was… most of the time. I'd stay at their place, help her with cooking and cleaning. She taught me how to make kimchi, how to fold laundry properly, all those domestic things."
'Groomed her,' Hana thought with a flash of bitter recognition. 'Groomed her to be the perfect daughter-in-law. The obedient wife who knows her place.'
