When The Phone Rings

Chapter 52

“Our employees are starving to death, and you people who are supposed to be running the country are spouting this privileged nonsense, d*mn it—!”

A man was climbing up the dais in the blink of an eye. Some sort of blade glinted sharply in his hand.

For a moment, I thought the face looked familiar. Right! It was one of the protesters I had seen as I passed the entrance.

‘Huh…?’

Terror seized Heeju, and she instinctively raised her arms as the man charged, the glint of the knife catching the light. But before she could react further, the man was abruptly knocked down.

Her small nose bumped into Baek Sa-eon’s chest with a dull thud as he pulled her close, shielding her. At the same time, his foot struck the man with ruthless precision.

“In fostering the science and technology needed for green recovery and transitioning to a low-carbon economy…”

Thud! Thud!

His calculated kicks and aimed directly at vital points. Sa-eon was ruthless.

The man, now sprawled on the ground, was swiftly subdued by security personnel. Though he continued to scream as he was dragged away, Baek Sa-eon remained utterly unfazed.

He showed no sign of being affected.

Remarkably, even as he delivered those sharp kicks, he continued the briefing without missing a beat.

This steady rhythm compelled Heeju’s hands to move almost automatically. Years of rigorous training brought her sign language to life, even as her ears rang and her legs trembled. His unwavering voice kept her pushing.

“…sharing these resources with developing nations is our mission.”

Despite the ordeal, Baek Sa-eon did not lower the hand that rested protectively on her shoulder. His focus was not on the press or the audience but solely on Heeju.

Something was off.

His slightly labored breathing, the edge in his tone, and the anger flickering in his gaze as it lingered on her face— all of it.

By now, they were no longer standing side by side but facing each other, delivering the briefing in an oddly intimate posture.

“Achieving these sustainable development goals is impossible alone, which is why partnerships are paramount.”

The oddity was no longer their secret. The reporters and onlookers, murmuring in bewilderment, wore expressions of stunned confusion.

When the briefing concluded, applause— of varying intent— erupted.

As Heeju bowed unable to recover from the daze, someone suddenly cupped her face,

“Were you scared? Are you hurt anywhere?”

At last, the breath she had been holding escaped in a rush. Her chest heaved as her breath came in short gasps, and her vision spun.

Baek Sa-eon, pressing his fingers gently against her pulse below her ear, muttered a curse under his breath.

“That lunatic…”
“Calm down for now. You did well with the briefing.”

Those words of acknowledgment sent a wave of warmth. Leading her off the stage, Baek Sa-eon quickly escorted her to the waiting room and locked the door behind them. Then, seeing how agitated she was, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Ever since I met you, there isn’t a single safe place in this world anymore. I would be worried sick, if I left you alone.”

Resting his chin on the crown of her head, he hugged her even tighter. Enveloped in his familiar scent, Heeju felt a strange warmth fill her.

“I suppose it’ll be like this forever.”

His soft sigh carried a peculiar sweetness. The smooth texture of his cheek rubbed gently against her hair, and his voice, resonating through his chest, sounded deep and steady—like a heartbeat.
It was a comforting sense of belonging to a larger world.

‘Ah…’

Her stomach churned unexpectedly.

Even in the dark chaos, she felt herself drawn to his voice—a voice that had always guided her like a thread of light.

And in that moment, clarity dawned upon her.

‘I… the feelings I have for him…’

Her defenses crumbled, revealing her vulnerability. The wounds she had clung to so tenaciously were slowly being unraveled—not by force, but by the sincerity she had glimpsed in him.

‘Is there another path for us…?’

She recalled his confession, uttered roughly in a moment of vulnerability. The subject was unclear, but from beginning to end, his gaze had never left her.

If there’s even a sliver of space for me left—
Could we have a different ending?
If I reveal that I’m 406… Can you accept me?

That’s when she noticed it. The torn sleeve exposed a shallow cut on his arm.

“…!”

Heeju’s heart sank.

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

With a casual air, he pulled his arm from her grip and rotated it as if to demonstrate his indifference. But when Sa-eon noticed the distance between them, he pulled her again in an embrace.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

 

***

 

As Heeju stepped outside to head home, several pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

Heeju quickened her pace, trying to ignore the stares that were probing her face. Her blushing cheeks refused to cool down.

Rrrr! Rrrr!

The loud vibration of her phone startled her, and she fumbled through her pockets in a hurry.

Heeju couldn’t help trembling seeing the restricted number flashing on her screen.

‘Why now, of all times…?’

Before she could decide whether to answer, someone grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the emergency stairwell. The grip was so tight it made her bones ache.

Shoved roughly into a corner, Heeju’s first instinct was massaging her wrists.

“Hong Heeju, you… d*mn it—!”

Meeting her sister’s icy gaze, Heeju felt the blood drain from her face. She felt very fragile at that moment.

“Tell me it’s not true!”

Her sister’s voice was sharp and accusatory.

“You’re not… it’s not what I’m thinking, right?”

But Heeju couldn’t respond. There were too many things she couldn’t explain—too many truths she couldn’t bear to say aloud, especially now, after what she had just realized.

“Your face, up on that stage…”

In-a trailed off, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as if a sudden realization had dawned on her.

“Don’t tell me you actually… like Baek Sa-eon?”

“…”

In-ah swept her hair back with a trembling hand and bit her lip.

‘I wasn’t prepared to have this conversation with In-ah.’

When Heeju hung her head in silence, her sister’s tone shifted, more forceful this time.

“When did it start?”

Realizing there was no way to delay this. Heeju started answering through sign language.

‘…A while ago.’

At her confession, In-a let out a hollow laugh, gazed into the empty air, then kicked the wall before sinking to the floor with her face buried in her hands. The inexplicable intensity of her reaction made Heeju shrink back.

What could she even say?

I’m sorry for liking your fiancé?
I’m sorry for taking what isn’t mine… for overstepping…

Lost in her spiraling thoughts, Heeju was about to stammer an apology when her sister shot up and closed the distance between them, her eyes blazing with anger.

“If the Little Mermaid… had saved the prince not because she loved him, but after witnessing something terrible on his ship… could she still love him?”

The torrent of emotions that flashed through In-ah’s face was too chaotic for Heeju to decipher. Everything was moving too fast for her to grasp.

Only her sister’s fear and fury remained vividly clear.

“Heeju, do you know why I disappeared before the wedding?”
“…?”
“I ran away. That’s all it was.”
“What…?”
“I left because I was scared. No one believed me— not Dad, not anyone. There wasn’t a single person I could trust, so I abandoned everything and fled.”

In-ah’s trembling hands made sharp, frustrated gestures in the air, remnants of her childhood habit of signing.

In-ah grabbed Heeju’s shoulder tightly and continued.

“When I pretended not to notice your mutism, it wasn’t just because I was selfish… it was because I thought it was better for you to keep silent.”
“…”
“Because it was… safer that way.”

The cryptic statement left Heeju confused.
In-ah’s darting eyes betrayed her paranoia as she lowered her head, leaning in close enough that Heeju could see the redness in her sister’s sclera.

“When I was little… I said something I shouldn’t have.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“This man isn’t Baek Sa-eon.”
“…!”
“His face looks different, Grandpa.”

At the unexpected name, Heeju’s eyes widened. In-ah mimicked the way she used to speak as a child.

“That’s what I told Baek Jang-ho. I said the face was different from what I had seen before.”

A shiver ran down her spine as she licked her lips, the memory a chilling reminder of the danger she had faced.

“And his expression when I said that…”

In-ah shuddered at the recollection, her shoulders trembling as if even the memory sent chills down her spine.

The incident happened in a perfectly manicured garden, when Sa-eon was introduced as her fiance. In-ah had pointed confidently at Baek Sa-eon, drawing the eyes of everyone present.

And in that moment, the air had shifted from soft and warm to sharp and cutting, aiming directly at her like a blade.

The kindly old man who had approached her with a gentle smile had suddenly grabbed her face with startling force, his wrinkled fingers pressing harshly into her soft cheeks. His once benevolent expression twisted into something monstrous as his lips curved upward in a sinister grin.

At the time, his words had sounded like a blessing. But much later, In-ah realized they had been a warning.

Everything had started from that moment— from her careless words.

Her childish need to show off had sealed her fate.

Back then, she only wanted to prove that homeschooling hadn’t made her naive. She knew the boy before wasn’t the Baek Sa-eon she had seen before. In-ah’s child self just wanted to point it out.