The early morning light filtered in through the curtains, casting a muted glow over Bitna as she prepared for the day ahead. Her thoughts were sharp and focused. Today, she would get one step closer to exposing the truth. Her target was clear: Mrs. Bae. But something unexpected lingered in the back of her mind.

She was halfway out the door when a voice—cool, controlled—stopped her in her tracks.

"You're not going alone, are you?"

Bitna froze, irritation flashing in her eyes. She turned to face Daon, who stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. There was something about the way he stood there, like he was already a part of her plans, and it made her skin prickle.

"What are you doing here?" Bitna snapped, trying to mask the discomfort creeping into her chest.

"You know you can't keep following me around like this. I've got it covered."

Daon's lips curled into a small smile, but it wasn't the usual teasing smirk she was used to. This one was darker, more deliberate.

"Just making sure you don't get into trouble. Someone has to keep you in check." Bitna rolled her eyes, brushing past him with a huff.

They arrived at Mrs. Bae's house, and as Bitna made her way up the path, she saw the older woman standing at the door, watching them closely. Without a word, Mrs. Bae tossed her house keys toward them, an unmistakable gesture of dismissal.

"He's not here," Mrs. Bae said flatly, as if she was too tired to even pretend to be innocent. Bitna eyed the woman suspiciously.

"I'm not here for a game of charades, Mrs. Bae," she said, voice cool as she let herself in.

Inside, the house felt oppressive. Every inch of the space seemed to scream of secrets and lies, but Bitna didn't let her guard down for a second. She scanned the room carefully, her gaze locking onto a small cupboard by the stairs. Without hesitation, she walked over and yanked it open.

To her surprise, Jiho was inside, crouching down, his small face pale with fear. His eyes were wide with terror, and his hands trembled as he clutched his knees to his chest.Bitna knelt down beside him, her voice low and gentle.

"It's okay, Jiho. You're not in trouble. I'm here to help you."

Meanwhile, Daon remained outside with Mrs. Bae, his eyes never leaving her face. His voice was deceptively calm as he questioned her about the accident, pressing her with sharp, piercing questions.

"Jayeong was with another man at the funeral, wasn't she?" Daon's words cut through the thick silence like a knife.

"And then she abandoned Jiho with only 5000 won? What kind of mother does that?"

Mrs. Bae's gaze shifted, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"She's a selfish woman. She was always like that. I don't know what you're trying to insinuate..."

"Did she do it for the money?" Daon continued, his tone unwavering.

"The death benefits? Is that all you care about?" The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. Mrs. Bae's silence was almost as damning as her answer would have been.

Bitna, still by the cupboard, turned to face Daon. She didn't have to ask; she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. He was pushing for something, and he wasn't going to stop until he got it. But Bitna wasn't about to back down either.

She stood up, brushing past Daon, and turned her attention back to Jiho. The child was looking at her with wide, trusting eyes now, as if he knew she was the only one who truly understood his fear.

"Jiho," she asked, her voice soft but firm.

"What happened that day? Can you tell me what you saw?"

Jiho hesitated, his small body trembling as he fidgeted with his hands. "I... I saw Mom do it. She... she closed the seatbelt. And then she swerved. She let Dad drown. She didn't even try to help him." Bitna felt a surge of disgust, but she held her composure.

"Did she threaten you?" she pressed, her voice gentle yet firm.

Jiho nodded slowly, his eyes filling with tears.

"She said if I told anyone, she'd kill Grandma... I didn't want her to hurt Grandma..."

Bitna's chest tightened with a mix of fury and sorrow. Jayeong had done this. She had let her own husband die. And now she was hurting Jiho—using him as a pawn in a twisted game for money.

The courtroom was tense, every seat occupied with people waiting for the judge's ruling. Bitna and Daon sat side by side, the weight of the moment heavy on their shoulders. Mrs. Bae sat stiffly at the front, her gaze never leaving the judge as he prepared to speak.

The judge's voice was clear and commanding as he addressed the room.

"The case for the grandmother's custody of Jiho is hereby suspended. However, Mrs. Bae will not face any charges at this time. She will need to prove that she is fit to care for Jiho over the next two years."

That evening, after everything had settled, Bitna stood in front of her mirror, watching her reflection with a quiet intensity. It wasn't just the case that weighed on her mind—it was Jiho's future, his safety, and the twisted web that had been spun around him. But as she watched the mirror shift, a dark realization hit her.

Jayeong was going to kill Jiho.

Without wasting a second, she grabbed a knife and stormed out the door, her steps quick and purposeful. She wasn't going to let it happen.

Later that night, in the dimly lit room of her apartment, Bitna and Daon sat together, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. It wasn't just about Jiho anymore. It was about everything they had lost—and everything they were willing to sacrifice.

Daon spoke, his voice quieter than usual.

"You know, Aera's been gone for a while now. Do you know where she is?"

Bitna's eyes flicked to him, her expression unreadable. She had sensed it for a while—the way he had been distant, the way his thoughts seemed to linger on something—or someone—else.She leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a teasing smirk.

"Oh? Missing her, are you?" she asked, her voice laced with playful mockery.

Daon's eyes flickered with something—something that made Bitna pause. His gaze was intense, searching, as though he were weighing something heavy on his heart.

"I'm not the type to miss people, Judge Bitna," Daon said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"But there's something off. Something's not right. I can't shake the feeling that Aera's been gone for too long."

Bitna's smirk faded, replaced by a quiet understanding. She leaned forward, her voice low.

"You care more than you want to admit," she said softly, a hint of sympathy in her gaze.

"But it's okay, Daon. You don't have to say it out loud."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them, heavy and loaded with the weight of their unspoken words. But Bitna could feel it—the shift in the air, the understanding that something was changing, even if they both refused to acknowledge it.