Episode 14

Sohee’s voice trembled uncontrollably, unable to suppress the wave of emotions surging through her. A mix of betrayal and worry swelled like a snowball, destabilizing her already fragile composure.

“Hey! They’re listening to everything we’re saying in there. How could I do anything from here? Stop spouting nonsense,” Jin Hye-yeon hissed, glaring at Sohee with sharp, scolding eyes.

Then, just as quickly, her gaze softened and narrowed, taking on a sly quality.

“But… you look better these days,” she remarked suddenly.

“What do you mean by that…?” Sohee asked, confused.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls lately. Did you get yourself a man?” Hye-yeon asked with a smirk, her tone turning teasing.

Understanding the implication, Sohee’s face flushed, and before she could stop herself, her voice rose.

“It’s not like that!”

She wanted to argue that she didn’t even have time to answer phone calls, let alone entertain the idea of dating. But before she could finish the thought, a certain someone’s face flashed unbidden through her conflicted mind, cutting through her protest.

“Who could you be meeting at this hour? A boyfriend?” Jin Hye-yeon pressed, her smirk widening.

Sohee raised a hand to her lips, forcing herself to calm the sudden burst of emotion. She didn’t want to show how rattled she was by such an offhand, teasing remark, even if her thoughts were swirling in turmoil beneath the surface.

“If it’s not, then why are you getting all worked up? Huh? You’re overreacting,” Hye-yeon added, her tone growing even more exasperating.

“I don’t have time for something like that,” Sohee replied firmly. “I only came here today because one of my tutoring sessions was canceled.”

When cornered, Jin Hye-yeon always had a habit of clamming up or avoiding eye contact. This time was no different as she shifted her gaze away.

“…Is that bastard Kim Joong-sik still giving you trouble?” she asked with a sigh, leaning back in her chair with a weary expression.

Kim Joong-sik was notorious, even among loan sharks, for being especially vicious. Somehow, Hye-yeon had ended up borrowing from him, but she knew all too well that Sohee had likely suffered relentless harassment from the man.

After all, it had been Hye-yeon who had written down her deceased husband’s name and her only child’s name when taking the loan. There was no way she couldn’t know the consequences of her actions.

Still, unlike herself, Sohee was young, resilient, and tough. ‘She just has to endure it a little longer,’ Hye-yeon thought. Soon, this cursed, miserable cycle would be over, and once Sohee made it through, everything would finally end.

“He doesn’t come by anymore. The debt was sold to someone else,” Sohee said quietly.

“What? Kim Joong-sik sold the debt? To who?” Hye-yeon asked, startled, her tone sharp with surprise.

Sohee nodded slowly, confirming the truth without saying much more.

“Yes. I haven’t seen him in a while,” Sohee replied.

“That doesn’t make sense… Is it someone you know?” Jin Hye-yeon muttered, slipping a finger into her mouth. She nervously chewed on her nail, her right leg bouncing—an unmistakable habit Sohee recognized as a sign of her mother’s anxiety. It made her wonder what could have caused such a reaction.

“I don’t know him very well. His name is Gye Won-ho…”

At that moment, Jin Hye-yeon shot to her feet. The chair she had been sitting on toppled backward with a loud crash, skidding across the floor.

“Gye Won-ho? Did you say Gye Won-ho?” she demanded, her voice high-pitched with urgency.

Startled by her mother’s abrupt reaction, Sohee also stood up, unsure of what to make of the situation. Jin Hye-yeon’s dilated pupils trembled violently, betraying her fear.

Sohee cast an uneasy glance toward the securely locked iron door, worried that her mother’s outburst might bring consequences.

“Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

Before she could get an answer, the bell signaling the end of visitation rang loudly.

“Kim Joong-sik sold the debt to…” Jin Hye-yeon began, but her voice trailed off.

Despite the repeated announcement signaling the end of visitation, Hye-yeon stood frozen in place, refusing to leave. A correctional officer eventually entered the room and grabbed her by the arm.

“Visiting time is over. Please return to your cell,” the officer instructed firmly.

Sohee, too, was ushered out by another officer, her legs feeling heavy and reluctant to move. Even as she was being pulled away, Hye-yeon appeared completely distraught, mumbling incoherently to herself. Her expression was eerily similar to that stormy night when she had entrusted the mysterious item to Sohee before disappearing.

As Sohee stepped out of the visiting room, her face was a mix of confusion and unease. The image of her mother’s panicked state lingered vividly in her mind, impossible to shake.

No matter how much resentment Sohee harbored, it was impossible to feel at ease watching her mother, clad in a prisoner’s uniform, being dragged away by correctional officers.

‘Why did she react like that?’ Even if there was more to say, her mother would likely call eventually, but the shock and questions lingered in Sohee’s mind, refusing to leave.

“Looks like I’ve seen you somewhere before,” a voice called out suddenly, halting her in her tracks just a few steps away from the visiting room.

Whistling, the man from earlier—the one she had bumped into—stepped in front of her.

“Back from a tearful reunion with Mommy?” he sneered.

The moment the word ‘Mommy’ left his lips, Sohee had an inkling of who he was: Gu Myung-chul, her mother’s long-time lover.

Though it was the first time she had seen him in person, there was no mistaking him. His name had often been mentioned by her drunken mother—more frequently than her own or her father’s. Even Kim Joong-sik, who used to mock her mother for “selling her kid’s future while cleaning up after her young boyfriend,” had spoken of him.

“I almost wasted my trip because someone else got in first for the one visit per day. Your name’s Sohee, isn’t it? Wow, you look just like Hye-yeon when she was younger. The face, the body… actually, scratch that. The daughter’s got her beat in the figure department,” he said, his eyes roving over her, lingering on her chest peeking out from the gap in her coat.

Feeling his gaze, Sohee turned her body slightly and fumbled with the buttons of her coat, fastening them tightly.

“No response, huh? Guess Hye-yeon was right—said your dad beat you so much you went deaf. Wasn’t it just one ear, though? Funny, that.”

The fact that her mother had shared even that with this man filled Sohee with a deep sense of humiliation.

‘Does she even know?’ Sohee thought bitterly.

Does she know how that day, when my right ear went completely deaf because of Kim Joong-sik, I cried in agony, wondering if I’d ever stop hurting? Probably not. She’ll never know.’

Her parents had taught her that even resentment could turn into resignation.

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we? Hop in my car. Let’s head back to Seoul together,” Gu Myung-chul said, his tone overly casual.

Sohee turned her back on him, pretending she truly couldn’t hear him, her face carefully composed despite the tears threatening to spill.

“Hey! Hey, wait! I’m offering you a ride! You seriously—hey! Are you deaf for real? Get back here!” he shouted after her, his voice grating as she walked away without looking back.

Sohee kept walking, ignoring the voice calling after her. Whether it was because of the prison’s setting or a reluctance to draw more attention, Gu Myung-chul didn’t follow her any further.

Regret for coming here surged through her, but it was pointless to dwell on what couldn’t be undone. Sohee pressed forward, her boots sinking into the snow with every step.

Her breaths came in hot and heavy, searing her throat like she had swallowed molten iron. Each exhale turned to steam in the freezing air, but she didn’t slow her pace. All she wanted now was to put as much distance as possible between herself and everything she had left behind.

* * *

Snow blanketed the manicured fairway, creating a surreal backdrop for the game. Gye Won-ho adjusted his stance, his tightly fitted golf attire stretching over his muscular frame, highlighting every defined contour.

With a sharp crack, the ball launched from the driver, soaring cleanly before landing precisely on its target.

“Good shot,” called the caddie cheerfully, approaching with enthusiasm despite the unfavorable weather. Handing off his club, Gye Won-ho pulled off his leather glove, revealing large hands marred with deep, well-healed scars. He casually brushed snow off his shoulder.

“Even in this weather, you’re hitting like a pro. Gye Jeonmu-nim, you could go professional,” quipped Baek Moo-kyung, rolling a candy around in his mouth as he clapped, the sound sharp and deliberate. The vibrant red and blue tattoos covering his hands stood out with every motion.

“Hm. It’s been a while, so my swing isn’t fully warmed up,” Gye Won-ho replied with a lazy smile, drawing Baek Moo-kyung’s gaze.

“If this is you ‘not warmed up,’ maybe you should try LPGA. I heard there’s a $10 million prize. If you win, you’ll split it with me, yeah?” he teased.

Gye Won-ho didn’t respond to the joke, his eyes scanning the expansive field. His attention settled on a group of carts heading back to the clubhouse. The snow was falling harder, prompting teams to cut their rounds short.

“Jeonmu-nim, I have something to report,” Han Gun-hee interrupted, appearing silently by his side. He gestured for Gye Won-ho to step aside, away from Baek Moo-kyung. Though they moved only a few steps, Gun-hee’s lowered voice and cautious demeanor hinted at the sensitive nature of his report.

While Gye Won-ho’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze sharpened as it lingered in the distance.

“What’s this about?” Baek Moo-kyung muttered, his curiosity piqued as he watched the exchange.

Though they weren’t related by blood, Baek Moo-kyung and Gye Won-ho shared a bond stronger than that of brothers or friends. Their mutual trust was forged through years of survival, clawing their way up from the Hope Institute—a facade for an adoption ring run by the ruthless Director Moon.

The two shared everything, leaving no room for secrets. So, seeing Gye Won-ho acting clandestinely was unusual and, therefore, intriguing to Baek Moo-kyung.

He knew Gye Won-ho had recently taken on a job from Mayor Choi—a small, straightforward task that could have been delegated to subordinates. Yet, for some reason, Gye Won-ho was handling it personally.

“Something smells fishy,” Baek Moo-kyung murmured, finding this deviation from Gye Won-ho’s typical behavior fascinating. Snippets of Gun-hee’s hushed report reached his ears: “Chairman… something about…”

‘So that’s it,’ Baek Moo-kyung thought, piecing things together. The name he’d overheard recently came to mind: Yoon So-hee.

Rumor had it she was barely out of her teens. A young girl, practically a child.

‘Interesting,’ Baek Moo-kyung mused, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the scene unfold.