The house was quiet when Ji-Woo returned.
Not asleep—just hushed. Lights low. Air still.
Mrs. Kim sat alone at the dining table, laptop open, the glow of the screen washing her face pale. A mug of coffee rested near her hand, untouched for a while now.
Keys clicked softly.
Ji-Woo stepped inside.
Her heels came off by the door. She moved in socks, silent, long hair loose down her back, bangs brushing her eyes. She looked composed. Tired, but careful not to show it.
Mrs. Kim glanced up. Just once.
"How did it go?" she asked, casual. Neutral. Like she was asking about the weather.
Ji-Woo paused.
"Good," she said.
Nothing more.
Mrs. Kim nodded, eyes already drifting back to the screen. "That's good."
Ji-Woo walked past the dining table, past the soft hum of the laptop, past the faint smell of coffee gone cold. Her steps were steady. Unrushed.
At the stairs, she stopped briefly.
Her fingers curled against the railing.
Then she went up.
The door to her room closed quietly behind her.
No slam. No sigh.
Inside, Ji-Woo leaned back against the door for just a second longer than necessary. The mask slipped—but only a fraction.
Her eyes closed.
Mi-Sook's smirk.
Ha-Rin's quiet voice.
The empty jewelry box.
In massive trouble.
Ji-Woo opened her eyes.
Tomorrow wasn't far.
And neither was the truth.
---
The classroom buzzed, alive and careless.
Boys shoved each other in the aisles, laughter bouncing off walls.
Girls whispered behind hands, hair brushing shoulders, fingers drumming.
Ji-Woo sat at her desk, long hair cascading down her back, bangs shadowing her sharp eyes.
Lips pressed tight.
Fingers curling lightly around the edge of her desk. She didn't move. She barely breathed.
Two seats behind her, Mi-Sook leaned beside a girl, flipping her hair with a practiced flick, chin lifted, lips curved faintly like she already knew the outcome.
Eun-Woo hovered nearby, tense, but Ji-Woo noticed she reached toward him for a drink, hoping he'd hand it to her—but he didn't.
He only gave her a glance that said, stay steady.
Ji-Ho hunched over his homework, curls falling into his eyes, shoulders blocking his view.
Then—the door swung open.
The air shifted.
Mr. Yoo Joon stepped in. Usually bright, always smiling. Not today. Jaw tight, eyes serious.
Behind him—Ha-Rin.
Casual clothes: a soft beige sweater hugging her frame, sleeves rolled slightly, dark jeans neat at the seams.
Her hair fell loosely in natural waves over her shoulders, framing her calm but guilty expression.
No mask.
No mole.
Bare face.
The room stiffened.
Every head turned. Ji-Woo's stomach dropped. Her eyes met Ha-Rin's. Guilt flared across her classmate's face.
She looked away.
Mr. Yoo Joon's voice cut through the silence. "Does everyone remember Ha-Rin? Former student. A case this school hasn't forgotten.''
He turns to Ha-Rin voice lowering ''Which locker?"
Ha-Rin's hands twisted. "Locker twenty-four," she said softly.
Ji-Woo froze. Her chest tightened.
locker.... twenty-four that's my locker...
Mi-Sook's smirk deepened.
Calm. Controlled. Hair falling perfectly over one shoulder, lips curved faintly.
Ji-Ho inhaled sharply, eyes darkening, sensing the tension.
Mr. Yoo Joon walked down the aisle to locker 24.
Dust flaked from the rusty door. It creaked open.
At first—nothing.
Just stacked notebooks Old pens, and A pencil case.
Then light caught something inside.
Jewelry. Gold, emeralds, diamonds. Glittering sharply under the fluorescent lights.
Mr. Yoo Joon's hand held it steady. "Why is this here?"
Ji-Woo opened her mouth. Words lodged in her throat. She swallowed, knees threatening to give out.
Whispers rose, like waves pressing in.
"She's lying.""She was at the party.""Of course she needed money."
Ji-Woo's fingers dug into the desk. Heart hammering. Legs trembling. She could barely stand.
''I... I don't Know how it got there.''
Eun-Woo moved beside her.
His hand found hers, gripping firmly.
"Come on," he said, voice low, sharp. He pulled her gently but firmly—no hesitation.
Ji-Woo let herself be led.
Knees weak, legs like jelly. Hair fell over her face, hiding the tears she couldn't stop from forming.
She opened her mouth, tried to speak, to defend herself.
Words failed. Only a shaky, "I didn't take it…" escaped.
Her voice cracked, thin and worn, almost lost in the whispers.
Mi-Sook's smirk didn't falter. Calm. Untouched.
Ji-Ho rose from his desk, eyes narrowing.
He started toward the scene, but Eun-Woo's grip held Ji-Woo, and she walked past him, leaning on Eun-Woo.
He couldn't follow. Not now.
Ji-Bok burst in then, skateboard under one arm, hair messy, eyes scanning.
The moment his gaze hit Ji-Woo being dragged by Eun-Woo, chest heaving, he froze.
"What the hell is going on?" His voice cut through the hum.
Silence.
"I said—what happened?" he shouted again, fists clenched, jaw tight.
Mi-Sook leaned back, smirk deliberate. She said nothing.
Finally, a student whispered, hesitantly: "Ji-Woo… took Ha-Rin's jewelry. Years ago. Now it's found."
Ji-Bok's eyes widened. That name—familiar, the story Ji-Woo had told him once.
Mrs. Posh, standing near the front, calm and composed, walked closer. Her silk blouse catching the light, hair perfectly styled.
She observed quietly, lips pressed in a thin line, hands clasped in front. ''I think we shouldn't accuse her unnecessarily.''
The principal's presence made the air heavier.
He adjusted his tie, eyes sweeping the room. Silence pressed down even harder ''Yes I thought so too. Maybe let's wait and talk to her''.
Ji-Bok wanted to follow Ji-Woo, to make her stop, to protect her—but Eun-Woo's firm grip held her hand, guiding her past him.
He stayed. Fists clenched.
Eyes burning at Mi-Sook, whose smirk didn't fade.
Ji-Ho's gaze lingered on the jewelry, then sharpened on Mi-Sook. He stepped closer, chest tense, jaw tight.
"Yesterday…" Ji-Ho began, voice low but cutting. "I saw you. With something shiny. Is this it?"
The room froze. Every head turned to Mi-Sook.
She didn't flinch. Smirk intact. Calm. Untouched.
Ji-Bok swallowed, skateboard forgotten, hands tight on the edges. He wanted to follow her, to confront her—but she was gone, and Eun-Woo held Ji-Woo.
So he stayed, heart hammering, remembering every detail, burning it into his mind.