Saccharin Chapter 13

Saccharin | Chapter 13

Posted by Bree, Released on February 15, 2025

SACCHARIN
CHAPTER 13

“Honey, I feel a little uncomfortable about going there. There’s someone who knows I used to dance at the nightclub….”

“Then I’ll make an excuse and say I’m not feeling well. Or better yet, why don’t you just check into a hospital for a day or two and take a break?”

“Maybe I should… Ugh. This is why I can’t even go to those gatherings with Wan-yi’s friends’ moms. I’m always afraid someone will recognize me….”

They say no job is shameful, but neither of my parents had careers they could be entirely proud of in front of their child.

That’s why they spent their whole lives keeping secrets. Even up until the moment before she died, my mother had been telling little white lies.

Of course, I never went out of my way to let them know that I was aware of what they were hiding. If anything, I understood why they were so obsessed—almost desperate—about my education. It even made me feel a little sorry for them.

But unlike my mother, who eventually settled into the role of a refined housewife, my father still seemed to be working in the shadows.

Otherwise, how could I explain what I saw that night?

“Honey… what is this…?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down—Wan-yi might wake up.”

They must have thought I knew nothing.

But I clearly remembered a fragment of my childhood.

“Hurry, take off your clothes first! We need to wash off what’s on you….”

I must have been about five or six years old.

I woke up in the middle of the night, sensing my father’s presence as he returned home—far past midnight, almost dawn. I was thirsty, so I got up to go to the kitchen.

That’s when I noticed the bathroom door was half open.

And then…

I swallowed back the words Dad, you’re home, because the scene before me left me speechless.

“What the hell did you do, Wan-yi’s father?!”

“I… I did it for you and our daughter!”

“Bullshit! Don’t use Wan-yi as an excuse! You did this for your own damn ambition!”

My father stood there in nothing but his underwear, and my mother was frantically pacing, looking completely lost.

Both of them were scrubbing—no, washing something. My father at the sink, my mother crouched inside the bathroom.

I held my breath and kept watching.

And then, I saw it.

My mother’s trembling hands, clutching my father’s dress shirt.

It had once been white.

Now, it was completely stained red.

Like it had been soaked in blood.

Even as a child, I knew exactly what I was looking at.

“Ah, fuck—Seo Kyoyong, you bastard! I’m losing my damn mind… because of you, I’m losing my mind!”

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about money anymore! From now on, we won’t just be comfortable—we’ll be filthy rich! Just turn a blind eye, just this once, and help me out, okay?”

“Help you?! Help you?! Fuck this—now I’m practically an accomplice too… shit….”

“Baby, honey, keep your voice down! You’ll wake Wan-yi.”

At that moment, I wasn’t as shocked by the bloodstained shirt my father was wearing as I was by the fact that my mother knew how to curse.

The mother I knew was nagging and fussy at times, but she always tried to appear refined and composed.

Yet here she was, swearing so freely… As a child, I was so startled that my heart pounded uncontrollably.

“This won’t do… Honey, just burn it.”

“Should we? Baby?”

“What if the bloodstains don’t come out, even with bleach?! Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“No, wait. Take off everything, Wan-yi’s dad. Even your underwear. And bring me your shoes! We need to burn all of it!”

I clenched my teeth and carefully tiptoed back to my room, making sure not to make a sound.

Lying down, I pulled the blanket up to my chin and turned my back to the door on purpose.

I was so terrified that my whole body trembled, my teeth chattering. I had to do everything I could to keep myself under control.

Even back then, I knew I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to see.

But because I was too young to fully understand, the questions in my mind only grew bigger with time.

Why had my father come home so late that night, covered in blood?

Had he… killed someone?

Or was it a hit-and-run?

As if mocking my childish imagination, my father’s words from that night echoed in my ears—promising a life of endless wealth and luxury.

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about money anymore! From now on, we won’t just be comfortable—we’ll be filthy rich! Just turn a blind eye, just this once, and help me out, okay?”

Then… did he help dispose of a body?

No.

No way.

My dad wouldn’t do something like that.

He was the kind of man who couldn’t even bring himself to kill a bug.

Mom used to get so annoyed, saying it was a waste for someone his size to be so weak.

But then again… can you ever truly know someone?

As a father, Seo Kyoyong was gentle, kind, and completely devoted to his daughter.

But as a man, Seo Kyoyong might have been something else entirely—someone cold, ruthless.

That’s why I buried the memory of that night deep inside me.

I pretended I had never seen or heard anything.

I lived as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.

“Help you?! Help you with what?! Fuck this—now I’m practically an accomplice too… Shit….”

And yet, sometimes, I found myself suffocated by a vague sense of guilt.

Like my mother had said, I, too, felt like an accomplice to whatever they had done.

Whenever that feeling crept in, I searched for something else to focus on.

As a teenager, it was studying.

During college and my time abroad, it was hobbies.

In grad school, it was my thesis.

Most of the time, I didn’t think about that night at all.

But every now and then, something triggered the memory, dragging it back into the light.

The scent of dirt clinging to my father’s shoes at the front door.

The sound of water running endlessly in the sink—sometimes so vividly in my mind that I swore I could hear it all night long.

But I never told anyone about those sleepless nights.

“I’d love it if she could be a ballerina, too. But if Wan-yi ever takes on a job that puts her in the public eye, everything could come out. She doesn’t have much talent anyway, does she? You’ve seen the competitions—we both know our daughter is the worst one there.”

“I know it’s selfish of me to push for ballet. But don’t you think it’s a waste? Ballet aside, she was made to be on TV. But with a father like this…”

“I’ve already made enough money for Wan-yi to live without working a single day in her life. What’s there to worry about? Just forget about ballet. Let’s have her focus on school and keep things normal, okay?”

What exactly had my father done for even my overly ambitious mother to give up on making me a celebrity?

In high school, they had even stopped me from running for class president.

That alone said enough.

But even then, I never once rebelled.

Not even in the smallest way.

In the end, I followed the path they had laid out for me—straight into a comfortable master’s program.

And maybe that’s why…

I was finally paying the price for living a life made easy by my father’s money.

04. At the Castle

Ah, I dozed off again.

It was time to pull myself together.

As I woke up, my instinct was to open my eyes—but of course, I was still wearing the blindfold. Darkness remained.

“…….”

Was there a way to outsmart these people, who believed I couldn’t gather any information without my sight? I racked my brain, but nothing came easily.

One thing was certain—the driver hadn’t stepped on the brakes for quite some time. We must have been cruising at a steady speed on the highway.

I had been driving since my university days, so I could at least guess the movement of the car.

But my nose was no help. All I could smell was the mix of cologne and cigarette smoke coming from the man next to me. Of course, he had the nerve to use expensive cologne—it annoyed me to no end.

I strained my ears, but the silence in the car was eerie. No music, no radio—just a heavy stillness.

For such a long drive, anyone would feel stiff from sitting too long. Yet, there wasn’t a single sound of movement.

Wouldn’t they at least make some small talk out of boredom?

Yet none of them spoke a word.

Had they switched drivers while I was asleep?

That ridiculous thought crossed my mind as the silence stretched on.

And then… the factory.

The so-called factory.

Just how far away was it?

I hoped it was an actual factory—one that made something, anything—rather than what I feared it might be.

Nervous, I kept fiddling with my seatbelt. The constant friction against my fingertips made them feel slightly raw.

The only sound in the car was the faint clinking of my handcuffs whenever I moved.