Ha-Rin slipped into the house with the rest of the staff, head bowed, steps measured.
The oversized mask hid most of her face, the ridiculous fake mole clinging stubbornly to her cheek.
She moved like someone who had done this work a hundred times before—quiet, invisible, forgettable.
But her eyes missed nothing.
Every chandelier. Every corridor.
Every shadow that felt just a little too deliberate.
Inside the ballroom, Ji-Woo scanned the crowd.
Mi-Sook was nowhere.
She stood near one of the tall columns, posture relaxed, expression calm, but her eyes moved constantly—faces, reflections, exits. She checked again.
Still nothing.
Ji-Woo turned and spotted Mrs. Jung near a small table of guests.
Mrs. Jung looked elegant in a simple way—an ivory silk dress that fell cleanly over her frame, no unnecessary embellishment.
Her makeup was understated: soft foundation, lightly defined eyes, lips a muted rose. She looked composed, controlled, like someone who didn't need attention to command it.
Ji-Woo approached her with a polite smile.
"Excuse me," she said quietly. "Have you seen Mi-Sook?"
Mrs. Jung blinked, then shook her head. "She stepped outside," she replied. "Said she needed some air. She'll be back soon."
Before Ji-Woo could respond, Mr. Jung joined them, adjusting his cufflinks. "Yes," he added, tone casual. "Just air."
Ji-Woo nodded, thanking them, but the moment she turned away, her expression shifted.
Air?
The thought slid sharp and uneasy through her mind.
Mi-Sook hated leaving parties. She loved being seen.
Ji-Woo's fingers curled slightly.
She reached into her clutch, pulled out her phone, and typed quickly.
Be careful. She went out.
Across the house, Ha-Rin felt her phone vibrate.
She glanced at the screen once, then slipped it back into her pocket without breaking stride.
Her movements changed.
She began checking everything—quietly, thoroughly. Drawers beneath side tables. Cabinets behind decorative screens. Storage rooms, closets, corners most people wouldn't think to search.
Up the stairs.
Down another hall.
Finally, she reached Mi-Sook's room.
The door was unlocked.
Ha-Rin closed it gently behind her.
She moved straight to the dresser, fingers steady as she opened one drawer after another. Clothes. Scarves. Accessories.
Then—
A wooden box.
Plain. Polished. Heavy.
Her breath slowed.
She lifted it out and placed it on the bed.
For a second, she hesitated.
Then she opened it.
Empty.
No velvet lining disturbed.No glint of gold.No emerald.No diamond.
Nothing.
Ha-Rin stared at the hollow space, her pulse finally breaking its calm rhythm.
Whatever Mi-Sook had taken—
It was already gone.
---
Ji-Ho leaned against the cold metal railing of the rooftop, the city sprawled out below him like a scatter of lights on black velvet.
He hadn't noticed when the tears started.
They slipped down silently, unannounced, leaving tracks on his cheeks that he didn't bother to wipe.
He didn't sob.
He didn't flinch.
He just sat there, letting the wind tug at his hair, brushing across his face, chilling him, grounding him.
A long, quiet sigh escaped him.
He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, trying to fold the ache inside him into something smaller, manageable.
But it didn't work.
He stayed there, motionless, watching the distant hum of the city, until finally he rose.
Downstairs, the classroom was nearly empty, the faint echo of the evening settling in the hallways.
And there she was.
Mi-Sook.
Moving inside the room with that same effortless composure, something shiny glinting in her hand just for a second.
Ji-Ho froze, watching carefully.
She didn't linger. When she emerged, the shiny object was gone. Nothing. As if it had never been there.
She walked away, smooth and deliberate, the faint smirk on her lips unreadable.
He followed her with his eyes, frowning. Something about that brief glimmer had unsettled him.
He forced himself to speak.
"Mi-Sook… why were you in the classroom? at this our?"
''A great Question.''
She turned, expression casual, smirk playing at her lips.
"I… forgot my phone," she said lightly, as if that explained everything.
Ji-Ho didn't believe her.
That fleeting shine, the way she had moved, the way she carried herself—it told him there was more, always more, than what she let anyone see.
His gut twisted.
He wanted to push, to ask again, but something in him held back, watching her walk away, knowing that whatever she was hiding, it wasn't about a phone.
He stayed a moment longer, the weight in his chest stubborn, uneasy, as he followed silently for a few steps, shadows stretching long in the hall behind him.
The night felt colder now, sharper, as if echoing the uncertainty settling deep inside him.
-
Mi-Sook returned to the party, gliding through the crowd like she belonged nowhere and everywhere at once.
Ji-Woo saw her immediately, long hair catching the light, bangs shadowing her eyes, every step measured. She didn't ask first. She just stepped closer.
"Where were you?" Ji-Woo's voice was soft, but sharp, the kind that pricked at Mi-Sook.
Mi-Sook tilted her head, smirk teasing, but her eyes were stormy. "In massive trouble," she said.
"And you can't help me. Not yet."
Ji-Woo's lips pressed together, quiet.
She didn't move.
Didn't look away.
The music, the chatter, the laughter—everything blurred around them.
"I'm not going anywhere," Ji-Woo said, low, steady, like a promise.
Mi-Sook's smirk softened, almost grateful, just for a heartbeat, then she slipped back into the crowd, leaving Ji-Woo standing there, hair brushing her shoulders, heart tight, waiting for whatever came next.
Ha-Rin appeared in the doorway, the maid uniform crisp but slightly rumpled, the oversized mask hiding most of her face, the ridiculous mole stuck to her cheek like a stubborn warning.
She didn't meet Ji-Woo's eyes at first.
"I… I couldn't find it," she said quietly, voice tight.
Ji-Woo's stomach twisted.
The jewelry.
Gone.
And Ha-Rin's hesitation said more than words ever could. Her eyes narrowed beneath her bangs, sharp, searching.
Something told her who was behind this.
Mi-Sook.
Her mind replayed the last few hours—the brief glimmer in Mi-Sook's hand, the smirk, the way she moved as if nothing in the world could touch her.
Ji-Woo clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, trying to stay calm, trying to breathe through the sudden surge of anger and suspicion.
"She's hiding something,"
Ji-Woo muttered under her breath, long hair brushing her shoulders as she stepped closer to Ha-Rin.
"And I'm going to find out what."