Rummaging through the cluttered drawers of her new life's room, Ji-Woo's fingers trembled as she sifted through the chaos.
Every drawer seemed to hold memories and secrets she hadn't yet uncovered.
Her mind was a jumble—confusion, longing, and a desperate search for meaning.
She paused, voice trembling, "Is there anything she kept for me to find… something that will tell me who I am?"
Her eyes darted around until they settled on a small, dusty pink book tucked away at the back. Her heart skipped a beat.
She reached out slowly, pulling it free. The cover was worn but the word DIARY was written boldly in black ink.
Her eyes widened with curiosity and a flicker of hope. Gulping hard, she opened the book.
Two letters slipped out and fluttered onto the bed. One was a green envelope, the other pink.
She gasped, her breath catching as her gaze fixated on them. Her hands trembled as she bent forward, clutching the pink letter tightly.
At the side, scrawled in neat handwriting, was a message: "To Ji-Soo from Ji-Woo."
Her eyes widened in shock. How… how is this possible? she thought, her voice barely a whisper.
Did she really write this? And I never received it...
With trembling fingers, she carefully opened the pink letter.
As she read the words, tears welled up and spilled over, blurring her vision. Her chest tightened with emotion—an ache she couldn't quite describe.
She slowly sank onto the edge of the bed, clutching the letter as if it were her most precious possession.
In her mind's eye, she saw her sister sitting at a simple wooden table, hair pulled back neatly, pen in hand, writing with trembling hope:
"Dear Ji-Soo," the letter began softly. "I hope you are doing well." Her voice cracked as she read aloud, "If you're wondering, I am your sister—your twin sister. I've been waiting for you to find me."
A surge of emotion hit her—tear after tear streaming down her face. Her voice caught, trembling with a mixture of love and regret.
"Why didn't I see? Why didn't I know?" Her breath hitched as she clutched her chest.
Then she opened the second letter—the green one. Inside was an old, faded photograph of two little girls, smiling and holding hands. One was her, the other… Ji-Woo.
Memories flooded her—warmth, innocence, and a connection she'd long buried.
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks.
"Ji-Woo… I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice thick with remorse. "I didn't realize you needed me so much… I was blind."
Her gaze darted around the room as if searching for answers. "No more," she whispered fiercely.
"I promise—I will fulfill every single one of your wishes. That car accident… I will prove to everyone it wasn't an accident.
Come what may, I will find the truth. I swear it." Her voice was steady now, filled with determination and love.
She clutched the photograph close to her heart, tears still falling. "I'm coming, Ji-Woo. I'll find you… and I'll make everything right."
---
The clatter of spoons against porcelain plates echoed softly through the grand dining hall. The sounds were rhythmic—clicking, scraping, and the gentle hum of servants and maids moving silently at the corners, their heads bowed low in deference.
At the far end of the room sat Mrs. Kim, exuding an air of refined elegance. Every movement she made was deliberate, almost like a dance—graceful, precise, almost like an art form.
Her sharp eyes drifted to the girl sitting across from her. Ji-Woo.
She watched as Ji-Woo sat stiffly, her hands clenched tightly on the table, her gaze distant and unfocused.
The untouched plate of food in front of her seemed almost symbolic—disregarded yet present, like everything else in her life.
Mrs. Kim's voice broke the silence, cool and measured. "Nobody's going to eat that," she said, a hint of condescension in her tone.
"And nobody's going to throw it away either." Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"You'd better eat it. We don't waste food here." She paused, a small smirk curling on her lips. "As long as I can remember, this has been your favorite dish before you lost your memory."
Ji-Woo flinched inwardly at the reminder, her stomach tightening. She looked down, voice trembling as she whispered, "No… I just lost my appetite."
Mrs. Kim's gaze sharpened, her tone turning a little more pointed.
"Hmm… How's school? I hope you aren't disgracing yourself there. I've noticed a change in your behavior since the accident." Her eyes flicked with suspicion. "I hope you're not causing trouble."
Ji-Woo nodded softly, avoiding her gaze. "Yes, ma'am. Everything is fine."
Mrs. Kim nodded curtly, as if satisfied. Then she leaned back slightly, a calculated expression on her face.
"Oh, and by the way," she added casually, "The son of that big businessman Mr. Choi——will be transferring to your school. Treat him well. We wouldn't want rumors spreading about you… tarnishing my reputation."
Ji-Woo's fists clenched tighter at her words. Her mind raced—her mother only cared about appearances, about her reputation.
Not a single thought for Ji-Woo's feelings or well-being. It was as if she was invisible in her own life, a shadow behind her mother's obsession with status.
She forced herself to nod, voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I will treat him well''.
Ji-Woo hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. She looked up slowly, her voice barely a whisper.
"How am I supposed to please him? So that I don't ruin your reputation?" Her words hung in the air, trembling with hesitation and a hint of defiance.
Mrs. Kim's eyes flicked to her, a cold glint shining beneath her composed exterior. She arched an eyebrow, a smirk curling on her lips.
"I didn't tell you to please him," she said, voice smooth and dismissive. "In fact, he wouldn't even bother to look at you… if even you were the last thing in the world."
Her words sliced through the air like ice, and she laughed coldly, a sharp, mirthless sound that echoed in the grand room.
Ji-Woo's cheeks flushed with a mixture of shame and anger, her face heating up in response.
Ji-Woo's voice trembled, but she pushed on, her tone trying to sound confident. "I thought you wanted me to get involved with him."
Mrs. Kim's eyes narrowed, and her tone turned icy, almost mocking.
"Involve with him? You're clearly out of your senses," she said sharply. "In fact, you're not in your senses at all—you lost your memory. Remember?"
She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "Keep quiet and maintain your 'steeze'—your composure. That's what's important."
Ji-Woo sighed deeply, shaking her head in frustration. Her shoulders slumped as she looked away, a mixture of resignation and resolve flooding her.
Deep down, she knew her mother's words were a cold reminder of her own insignificance, yet a flicker of determination ignited within her.
She clenched her fists softly under the table, fighting back the rising tide of emotion. I won't let her control me anymore, she thought. I'll find my own way, even if I have to break through all this silence.
Mrs. Kim's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Good. Now, eat," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Ji-Woo hesitated for a moment, then slowly picked up her fork.
Her hand trembled slightly as she began to dig into the food, each bite heavy with unspoken emotions—resentment, helplessness, and a quiet resolve to find her own way despite the cold, unfeeling world around her.