8:53 PM

Yoon Residence, Seoul

Jeonghan stepped inside first, holding the door open for his sister, Jaeha. As she entered the house, and closed it behind her, he released her hand, a gesture both protective and hesitant. They slipped out of their shoes as they made their way to the stairs, but their movement was halted by a voice that sliced the air like a knife.

"Where have you two been out so late?" Their father stood at the foot of the staircase, his gaze glacial and unyielding.

Jeonghan clenched the banister, his heart racing. "I had a project with my partner," he answered, the words flowing with practiced ease. "Jaeha was helping a friend with an English lesson."

Jaeha's face fell as she listened to the lie, irritation mingling with fear. She had become all too familiar with the ominous weight of their father's disapproval. It was a sensation she had carried within her for as long as she could remember-an unsettling blend of resentment and dread.

"Is that a boyfriend?" he probed, eyes narrowing on her. Jeonghan's brow furrowed at the implication.

"No, he's my best friend," Jaeha retorted with a bitterness she could barely contain, turning her gaze away, as if she could escape his scrutiny.

"Can we go?" Jeonghan urged, glancing at Jaeha, whose discomfort was palpable. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"You can leave when I say so," their father replied, his tone brokering no argument as he took a step closer to the stairs.

"Jaeha, go upstairs," her brother commanded, his voice piercing through the dimly lit hallway. The confusion on her face was visible, her mouth forming a silent 'what' as she looked at him, begging for a reprieve. Jeonghan shook his head, urging her to comply while suppressing the tether of hope that she might resist.

"When I said 'you go when I tell you to,' that applies to both of you," their father continued, a smirk playing on his lips as Jeonghan's glare hardened against the wall behind Jaeha, who continued to look at him in concern.

"Really? Because last time I checked, you said that Jaeha is my responsibility. You never cared about us at all. So you can't just order her around." Jeonghan's words dripped with venom as he turned to face his father. Rage contorted the older man's features, teeth clenched tight.

"Get lost," he spat, directed at Jaeha, who only ever went upstairs when Jeonghan gave a firm nod. Hesitant, she retreated up the stairs, casting a worried glance back at her brother. Jeonghan did not smile in assurance; he knew it would only make her stay, prolonging the confrontation.

Once she disappeared around the corner, Jeonghan turned back to his father, motioning towards the living room, hoping to distance him from the staircase. The urgency in his gesture was clear.

"What is it?" He asked sharply, irritation growing as their father took his time, and he could sense the tension winding tighter.

His father ambled over to the showcase, retrieving a bottle of wine with deliberate slowness. As he poured the dark brown liquid into an ornate glass, he raised another glass toward Jeonghan, eyebrow raised expectantly.

"I'm not eighteen yet," Jeonghan replied, rolling his eyes. How long would this charade drag on? His father always had a way of obscuring the truth.

"Oh, not eighteen yet?" He laughed bitterly, each syllable laced with sarcasm. "Keeping up with you all these years felt like half a century." He sank into the plush mint couch, crossing one leg over the other, an air of casual disdain cloaked over him.

Jeonghan stood there, frustration simmering just below the surface. His father's psychological games were exhausting, leaving him tangled in confusion and voiceless uncertainty. It was exhausting, and all he wanted in that moment was to shield his sister from the looming shadow of their father's wrath. But he knew he couldn't protect her forever.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, thinking the same about him. The clock ticked, along with Jaeha's heartbeat, who hid behind the corner upstairs.

"I received an email earlier this morning," he said before taking a sip. "About the money regarding your mother," he spoke and said the word 'mother' like it was disgusting which caused Jeonghan clench his jaw and ball his fist. He glared at him before he let out a breath. Getting angry will only result in making dumb decisions and he has to stay cool headed which was getting harder every passing second.

"The bank said you mother wanted to give you and your sister her money. Equally into two. I didn't understand the need to give two useless children such money so I thought I should just agree and kept it in my bank until you grow up," Jeonghan knew it was impossible to do so unless both the children are dead. He even thought their mother died because of this very man in front of him.

The man tightened his grip around the glass, his knuckles paling as he stared intently at the swirling liquid inside. Jeonghan observed him with a knowing gaze. Studying finance was not just an academic pursuit for him; it was a key to understanding the intricate web of agreements and transactions that dictated their lives.

In this particular agreement, the transfer of money hinged precariously on a single thread. Once the funds were sent to the designated bank account-or accounts-no fourth party, no matter how cunning, could intervene to lay claim to it. Jeonghan felt the weight of this knowledge pressing down on him, especially as his impending eighteenth birthday loomed like a storm cloud on the horizon. It was a milestone that would shift the balance of power in their family dynamics, pushing their father further away from the helm of control.

Jeonghan and Jaeha had been navigating this complicated scenario for months, and now, the stakes were higher than ever. She admired her brother's intellect and wished for nothing but his happiness. When the time would come, he could claim the fortune-their mother's hard-earned savings, trapped in bureaucratic limbo-if he chose to do so. But he wasn't driven by greed; he cared deeply for Jaeha and knew she would never begrudge him a cent. Love, in their family, ran deeper than monetary worries, not including their father of course.

"I'm guessing you know where I'm going with this conversation," he questioned, his voice low and tense. Standing up, he walked towards Jeonghan, who instinctively held his chin up, a silent show of defiance.

"You are pathetic," Jeonghan retorted, his gaze unwavering. "You really think they'll ever give money to someone like you? Quit daydreaming, man." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to dismiss the play unfolding before him.

The other man gave a mirthless smile, folding his arms across his chest. "I know. You definitely won't let them give that money to me. So, I made a backup plan."

Jeonghan felt a chill creep down his spine. He didn't react outwardly-no furrowed brow or widening of the eyes-but inside, a gnawing anxiety began to take hold. He had a hunch about what the "backup" involved, and he fervently wished he was mistaken.

"You think you're so clever," he spoke, his voice steadier than he felt. "But you're just digging yourself deeper. How far are you willing to go?"

"You underestimate me," the man shot back, taking a step closer, the tension between them thickening like smoke in the air.

"And you underestimate the consequences of your actions," Jeonghan warned, his heart pounding in his chest. "If this is about her, you have no idea what you're dealing with."

A sly grin spread across the man's face, an unsettling glint in his eyes. "Oh, but I do. I know exactly what I'm dealing with. The question is, do you?"

For a moment, they stood locked in a battle of wills, the air charged with unspoken threats. Jeonghan shifted his weight slightly, carefully considering his next move. He had always been the voice of reason, the one who put others' needs before his own. But he knew what was at stake now-it wasn't just about money or pride; it was about protecting those he cared for.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he finally said, his voice quieter now, filled with a determination that surprised even him.

"And I play to win," the man replied, a hint of menace lurking beneath his words. "Don't forget, I have my own cards to play."

Jeonghan felt the resolve rising in him, the need to confront whatever shadows lay ahead. Whatever the backup was, he couldn't let it ensnare them in its web. He took a deep breath, ready to face the truth, whatever it might be.

"Then let's see which of us comes out on top," he declared, not breaking eye contact or stepping back. If a confrontation was unavoidable, he wouldn't shy away from it.

He had his own plans. Plans that didn't involve backstabbing or deceit. At the little glimmer in his father's eyes, he knew this was far from over. There would be no escaping spider's web

Jaeha.

Leaning against the wall at the bottom of the staircase, Jaeha pressed her entire body into the cool plaster, strands of sweat trickling down her temple. The air was thick with tension as she strained to eavesdrop on the conversation unfolding below her. She felt a simmering dread coiling in her stomach. That motherfucker! I always knew he was an asshole. Who knows-maybe he even killed Mom. We never did see her body...

The monologue in her mind fell silent as a sudden pause enveloped the space. Curiosity piqued, she peaked around the corner just in time to see her brother Jeonghan and their father facing off, their body language tense and charged.

"You really love and care about your sister, don't you?" Their father's voice dripped with a mock sincerity that made Jaeha's heart lurch. Jeonghan stepped forward, his hands sliding from his pockets to rest resolutely on his hips, pushing back his jacket with a calm that belied the immediacy of the situation. He looked effortlessly cool, but this was far from the right time for bravado.

"If you even dare........I won't hesitate," Jeonghan uttered, the words low and threaded with a threat Jaeha couldn't fully grasp but felt in her bones. The pit in her stomach deepened. Unable to shake the fear clawing at her heart, she pressed her forehead against the wall and clenched her jaw. She couldn't bear the thought of their father taking out his anger on Jeonghan, who was so fiercely protective of her. She knew all too well how cruel their father could be-a man who wouldn't think twice before ruining someone's life just to get what he wanted. The possibilities rushed through her mind, each less forgiving than the last.

"Jeonghan, you've really grown, haven't you?" Their father said, his tone now dark and malicious. Jaeha's instincts screamed at her to retreat further into the shadows of the hallway to stay undetected.

"I'm sure you understand when I say I'll ruin your life," he continued, causing her to frown in confusion. What could he even threaten Jeonghan with? He was still studying, still figuring himself out. How could their father possibly make his life worse? Fear crept into her mind: would he resort to torturing Jeonghan, breaking him down in some hidden way? Jaeha clenched her teeth, her heart racing, and silently prayed for it to end.

Just then, she caught a glimpse of her brother mumbling something under his breath, but the words slipped past her. Her focus sharpened as her father's expression morphed-anger flared across his face before he launched his fist towards Jeonghan. The sickening sound of impact echoed in the small space as Jeonghan stumbled back, falling to the ground. Jaeha's breath caught in her throat, panic surging through her veins. For a second this completely shut her system down.

But when he dug his heel on his foot, she snapped.

"Stop it!" she shouted, her voice rising above her racing heartbeat as she charged down the stairs. The suddenness of her appearance made both of them turn, a brief distraction that allowed her to reach Jeonghan's side. She pushed their father away, feeling a rush of adrenaline as she blocked him from her brother, who stared at her eyes wide in shock.

"Don't you dare hurt him," she shot back, meeting her father's gaze with a fierce glare. Her burning rage overpowering her trembling fear. Her breathing rapid as she just ran down the stairs, watching him with a burning gaze as he walked closer to them.

"Jaeha, I told you to stay upstairs," Jeonghan hissed softly, standing up and grabbing her shoulders but she brushed him off, too emboldened by her anger to care. Their father chuckled darkly, a twisted grin stretching across his face.

"What a scene... little sister coming to save her big brother," he mocked, his demeanor shifting back to ominous seriousness as he stepped closer to her. But Jaeha stood firm, fury eclipsing her fear.

"Choose your actions wisely," she warned, summoning every ounce of courage she had. "I'll report you for abuse if you ever lay a hand on him again." She took a resolute step forward, catching her father off guard as he raised an eyebrow, the threat ringing loud and clear.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. Then, surprisingly, he stepped back, the malevolence in his eyes flickering just enough for her to sense a hint of uncertainty. In that moment of silence, a fragile hope sparked within her. She was ready to stand her ground, to protect her brother-no matter what it took.

"Are you the same, Jaejae?" her father asked, tilting his head with a mocking grin. "Oh, definitely not! You've changed; you're more courageous now. Or maybe it's just adrenaline?"

As he teased her, Jeonghan stepped closer trying to stop her but Jaejae refused to let him shield her.

"I'm not looking for protection," she shot back. "At this rate, I might just take matters into my own hands and turn this bastard in."

"Jaeha," he called out, positioning himself in front of her, throwing Jeonghan a look that told him to stay put.

"Dear, did you overhear what we were talking about?" he inquired, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Jaejae glared at him, then glanced at her brother with a feigned look of innocence.

"I wish I had. That way, I could've used it against you," she retorted.

Her father laughed, a sound that felt more like a sneer, before striding over to the couch and settling down. He poured himself a glass of wine, sipping it with a flourish that struck her as foolish. "What? Want a sip, Jaejae? You're younger than your brother, he said he isn't even 18 yet. So tell me, how old are you?" he challenged, taking another sip while his gaze remained locked on her.

She ignored him, gripping Jeonghan's hand and pulling him with her. He limped slightly, frustration boiling within her as she glared at the man who had caused this. He watched with an insufferable smile, as if he had won some twisted victory. She scoffed in disdain, but a gentle squeeze from Jeonghan reminded her to focus on him.

She wrapped her arm around his and guided him upstairs. After a few careful steps, he found his footing, but she still kept her hold firm. As they turned a corner, Jeonghan glanced down, his expression troubled. Jaejae followed his gaze and gasped, realizing her bag lay against the wall, forgotten in the chaos.

With a heavy sigh, he picked it up, straining slightly under the weight. Jaeha frowned, guilt coursing through her.

Did I do something wrong? Should I have had just stayed upstairs? But...I couldn't. I can't just stand by.

The questions swirled in her mind as she guided him into his room so he can lay down for a while.

I won't let him get away with what he did. The conversation she overheard had been clipped and formal, cloaked in a secrecy that felt heavy with implication. But there was no way she could simply forget it, especially after the threats he'd made against my brother. The physical attack? That was unacceptable. But it was the chilling promise to ruin her brother's life that ignited a fierce resolve within her.

Once she helped him settle into his chair, she hurried to her room, grabbing ice cubes from the mini fridge. The chill was a small comfort, but it felt like the least she could do.

Returning to his room, she knelt in front of him, carefully placing the ice pack under his eye. He looked at her, his gaze firm yet unfocused, but she couldn't meet his eyes. He scrunched his nose in at the slight sting he got. He looked at her hands and continued staring at it. The ice melted slowly in her hands, and he gripped her wrist before entwining their fingers. It took her a moment to realize that her hands trembled slightly.

She wasn't scared-at least not completely. She was simply overwhelmed by everything. Maybe it was fear creeping in, but she would never admit that to my brother.

"Thank you for coming down to help me," he said, concern lacing his voice. "You know it could've put you in danger, right?"

She didn't respond, focusing on the sheets ends fluttering by the wind. He tightened his hold on her hand, steadying her shaking.

"Forget what you heard," he said, his voice low. "Did you catch what I said after he mentioned you?" She shook her head.

"Can you please not ask about it? Or try to figure it out?" His plea was earnest, and her nodded in understanding, determined to respect his wishes.

"What if he had hit you?" Jeonghan couldn't stop the question that slipped out, the thought gnawing at his mind.

He didn't let go of her hand, instead, he cradled it in his lap, his gaze downcast as a frown settled on his lips. "What if I wasn't able to protect you?"

His eyes met hers for a moment, and in that moment he realised how painfully worried she was, then he looked down. But she couldn't look away. Suddenly, he pulled her into a hug, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him tightly. The warmth of his embrace melted away the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but it also unleashed something deeper-tears she hadn't realized she was holding back began to spill down her cheeks.

She pressed her face against his chest, feeling vulnerable as she let the tears flow. He would see her cry, see the cracks in her brave facade, but she couldn't help it. Her emotions broke free, one sob at a time.

In that moment, she recognized her true state of mind. No matter how strong she tried to appear in front of Dad, she was still terrified of him. Facing him was a daunting task that left her feeling powerless.

Jeonghan tightened his embrace as she began to sob. "I'm sorry," she managed to say, her voice small and squeaky, her body shaking with each tremor of grief. "I'm so sorry......I'm sorry..."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to see you like this... I didn't want any of this." He murmured softly, cradling her head gently, holding her like she was the most precious thing in his world. And she was. In those moments, amidst the pain and fear, we found strength in each other-a bond that would not be easily broken.

Jeonghan

It hurts. It hurts so deeply. Not just the pain in my face or the throbbing in my foot, but the ache in my heart. I haven't seen her cry in years, and now, after all this time, her tears break me in ways I can't fully explain.

I pull her closer, cradling her head gently against my shoulder and rubbing her back, but even this small gesture feels insufficient.

"Let it out. Keeping it all inside will only make the hurt worse," I say softly, lifting her enough so she can sit up on the edge of the bed. Yet, despite my attempts to create space, she clings to me tightly, fear etched across her face.

She lets the tears flow while my own slip down my cheeks. In our relationship, she is the strong one-emotionally and physically. I can cry at a movie scene, while she remains stoic. I feel my heart clench when I see someone in pain, but she's the one who rushes to confront it head-on. If conflict arises, I hesitate, knowing I'm not built for a fight; she, on the other hand, charges in relentlessly. It's one of the many things I admire about her-her unwavering strength contrasted with my sensitivity.

After several minutes, her sobs begin to quiet, though she still clings to me tightly. My own tears have dried as I regain some semblance of composure. I steal a glance at her, and notice her eyes are closed-has she fallen asleep? I can't be sure, but I don't want to let go just yet.

Looking out the window, I see the city skyline glimmer with the glow of countless lights under the darkness of night. But it's not those distant lights that capture my attention. Just outside our view sits a small birdhouse, one she crafted herself. She had noticed a little bird frequenting the area and decided to create a home for it. Now, the bird has begun building a nest, a testament to her nurturing spirit.

She is truly one of a kind. Once gentle in nature, she has become fiercely strong, yet this moment has reminded me that beneath that tough exterior lies a soft and loving heart. She hasn't changed; she has simply evolved into a more resilient version of herself.

Gently, I lift her and ease her into a more comfortable position on the bed. She remains nestled against my shoulder, unwilling to let go, and I allow her that comfort. Turning down the air conditioning, I dim the lights and drape a blanket over us. I wrap my arms around her as I begin to drift off.

Outside the window, the mother bird embraces her young, wrapping her wings around them in a tender gesture of protection as both mother and child surrender to the quiet of slumber. Here, in our small world, warmth envelops us-an unspoken promise of love and comfort in the face of pain.

Makes me wonder how Jaeha never got to experience the warmth of our mother.