Following Seongheon’s instructions, Yeonwoo had returned to Domyeongjae immediately in Manager Hwang’s truck. Her face was bloodless, her fingertips trembling with an uncontrollable rhythm.
‘Oh, my. You. You were here. Hmm? Yeonwoo.’
Fear paralyzed her; her vision fractured and blurred. Cha Yoonseok’s manic, twisted face—the one that had tormented her with endless threats, tightening around her like a noose—was as vivid as if he were looming directly before her.
Memories she had fought to excise from her life surged back. That gaze, that suffocating expression, as if he were sealing her into a glass box to monitor her every shallow breath.
‘Yeonwoo. Wait. You understand? As you can see, I’m a bit busy. Wait. You must.’
A groan of agony tore from her throat. Yeonwoo clapped a hand over her mouth, gasping as she choked back ragged, wet breaths.
She could no longer tell if the world was shrouded in darkness or blinding light; she lost the ability to distinguish day from night. Her mind had stalled, leaving her unable to even contemplate what kind of future might lie ahead.
“Ah… instead of this, I should just… here…”
Her shoulders shook, sobs and gasps tangling in her chest. *Hic, hic.* She struggled to maintain her fragmented breathing, muttering to herself as if trying to grasp the reality of her own life.
The sudden realization that Domyeongjae was no longer a sanctuary made her bolt upright.
Her luggage, her work, the woman filling in for her mother—none of it mattered. If she didn’t flee immediately, she was certain she would be dragged back into the glass cage Cha Yoonseok had constructed for her. The thought sent a violent shudder through her limbs.
She took a shaky, uneven step, her soul seemingly left behind, but she halted before she could go far. She felt as though Cha Yoonseok were waiting for her the moment she breached the gates of Domyeongjae, ready to seize her with his own hands.
“Ah… now what, what should I…”
Nothing was normal. Unsolvable questions crowded her, and time ticked away while she stood frozen.
The terror, the suffocating dread—it was a language no one could understand unless they had been forced to speak it.
“Ah… what do I do, what do I do, ah… now what…”
The despair of a life being systematically dismantled by an unwanted shadow.
Like a woman coming undone, she spun in circles where she stood. She could neither stay still nor move forward; she was trapped in a space where she could neither leave nor hold her ground, the earth beneath her feet rippling like a closing swamp.
“Hey, newbie. What are ya doin’?”
It was then.
Yeonwoo turned slowly. Eun-ja approached, her hand raised to subtly display her bracelet.
“My, everyone’s askin’ me where I bought this. They say it suits me well.”
Eun-ja waved her arm, the jewelry clattering.
“But well, it ain’t just about the bracelet being pretty, is it? It’s because it found a good owner that people say it’s pretty, right? How much is somethin’ like this? Is it expensive? I’ve even been careful doin’ the dishes today so the bracelet doesn’t get wet… what’s wrong?”
Eun-ja, previously preoccupied with her own vanity, stole a glance at Yeonwoo and stopped abruptly. Yeonwoo stood there with a face ruined by tears, her shoulders trembling like a terrified child.
“What’s wrong? Newbie, why are ya like that?”
Startled, Eun-ja stepped back. Usually, when someone wept, people offered some semblance of comfort, but she recoiled as if truly unnerved.
“Why are you cryin’? What’s eatin’ ya? Can’t take it anymore? Is it finally time for ya to leave? Was the bracelet a parting gift?”
“That’s… not it…”
“Don’t tell me it’s because of me again? I didn’t bully ya that much, did I? Huh?”
“It’s not that either…”
Yeonwoo burst into loud sobs, a sound and expression so alien to Eun-ja that the other woman could only watch, stunned.
Yeonwoo cried for a long time, her sobbing enough to make anyone feel the weight of her wretchedness. Finally, she parted her lips. Her mouth felt sticky, coated in the residue of her distress, as she mumbled like a lost child.
“Please, save me…”
At the unexpected plea, Eun-ja blinked, bewildered.
“Please… please save me…”
“Hey, hey, newbie. Calm down. I don’t have a knife. And I don’t have a criminal record.”
“Please save me… please… please save me…”
Though Eun-ja didn’t understand the cause, it was clear that Yeonwoo’s state was dire.
Eun-ja glanced left and right, then grabbed Yeonwoo’s wrist and led her away without another word. They arrived at a quiet lakeside.
*
Eun-ja, lacking the capacity for deep empathy or crisis management, sat by Yeonwoo’s side until the sobbing subsided, then quietly signaled for Manager Moon.
When summoned, Manager Moon approached the lakeside after a long while. She stopped dead upon discovering Yeonwoo, whose eyes were swollen nearly shut, and Eun-ja, who was fidgeting nervously with her bracelet.
“Oh my, Manager Moon is here.”
Eun-ja, exhausted by the suffocating atmosphere, jumped to her feet. She looked at Manager Moon as if she were a savior.
When Manager Moon gestured with her eyes, asking, ‘Why is she crying like that?’, Eun-ja shrugged her shoulders, her expression answering, ‘How should I know?’
As Manager Moon stepped closer, Eun-ja leaned in and whispered.
“I’m tellin’ you for sure, I didn’t bully her.”
“Confess now while you can.”
“I’m tellin’ you, I didn’t. I didn’t even have the time to bully her, did I? I didn’t make her cry; I just found her like this. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
Even in this situation, Eun-ja fretted that Manager Moon might misunderstand the circumstances.
Manager Moon approached Yeonwoo. She didn’t flutter in a panic like Eun-ja; instead, she asked without blinking.
“Why are you crying like that? Someone pass away?”
“Oh, Manager. I already asked, and she said no.”
Eun-ja added mindlessly, and Manager Moon tapped her arm. Only then did Eun-ja fall silent, and Manager Moon moved closer to Yeonwoo.
“I asked why you’re crying. You have to say something for me to know.”
Manager Moon watched in silence, noticing how violently Yeonwoo’s hand—the one clutching a damp tissue—was trembling. She adjusted the temple of her glasses.
She simply observed, letting the silence stretch. Only after much more time had passed, perhaps after Yeonwoo had purged what was buried deep within her, did the sobbing gradually subside.
“You go on and get back to work.”
Once Yeonwoo stopped, Manager Moon dismissed Eun-ja. Eun-ja, who had been desperate to learn the source of the drama, wore a look of utter grievance but turned away with lingering reluctance.
Only then did Manager Moon sit down beside Yeonwoo.
“Good timing. I actually had something to talk to you about today anyway.”
Yeonwoo listened silently, releasing small, broken breaths.
“Are you being chased by some unsavory people?”
As soon as Manager Moon cut to the quick, Yeonwoo burst into tears again. Manager Moon wore an even sterner expression and scolded her.
“You have to speak for me to know. If you’re being chased, say you’re being chased. Tell me the reason. If someone is hunting you because you’ve done something wrong, you should clear up the rights and wrongs right now. How small is South Korea that you think you can hide? Tell me. Is it fraud, an affair, what is it? I’ll kick you out if you lie, so tell me the truth.”
“…”
“And, where do you think you are, hiding away like this? Do you think Domyeongjae is a place for hiding criminals? Get a grip. This isn’t that kind of place. Do you have any idea how holy and sacred this place is, and you, a criminal, come in and muddy the waters…”
“It’s true that I’m being chased…”
Yeonwoo barely parted her lips, and Manager Moon fixed her with a sharp look.
Tears dripped onto the back of Yeonwoo’s clenched hands. She continued, her voice drifting toward the water.
“I was harassed by a superior at the company I used to work for… and I ran away…”
“Harassed? For what reason?”
“I was being stalked…”
She had said the word she dreaded. Yeonwoo’s voice trailed off, as if the tip of her tongue were pierced by thorns.
At the word ‘stalking,’ Manager Moon slowly blinked. Not fully grasping the weight of the term, she mulled over it, then recalled the ‘reality of stalking’ that had dominated the news a couple of days ago.
The woman on the news had eventually been unable to endure, leaving a suicide note before departing this world. Hadn’t she clucked her tongue at the state of the world then, wondering why she hadn’t paid closer attention to the handwriting of that woman?
The resentment and bitterness of that suicide note flashed in her mind, and Manager Moon forced her eyelids open, as if shaking off a nightmare.
She shifted her posture and looked Yeonwoo straight in the eye. Watching the girl, who seemed to have stopped crying only to start leaking tears again, she raised her voice to reprimand her.
“Why are you crying? What are you crying for? Is this something that gets solved by crying?”
She spoke fiercely, demanding Yeonwoo regain her senses.
“What kind of big deal is this that you’re crying? Stop it. It’s a waste of tears. Stop it. Stop!”
When the order fell like a thunderclap, Yeonwoo did her best to wipe away her tears. Manager Moon straightened her aged shoulders and put on a deliberately fierce mask.
“As long as you are at Domyeongjae, this is not your affair; it is the affair of Domyeongjae.”
“…”
“The affairs of Domyeongjae are everything to me. So, speak clearly. From one to ten, from beginning to end. Tell me everything, without leaving out a single detail.”
Yeonwoo gathered the courage to lift her head. Perhaps because her heart was so fragile, Manager Moon’s stern, imposing face looked unexpectedly kind today.
With a face drained of all energy, Yeonwoo slowly parted her lips. Then, in a dry, cracking voice, she began to speak—slowly, laboriously, but with a flicker of courage.
“It was a superior I met at my previous workplace…”
She didn’t know how Manager Moon would take it. Whether she would believe her or dismiss her as a liar.
Or perhaps she would say that the noble and solemn Domyeongjae had no reason to harbor trouble, and that she should leave immediately.
She had wanted to keep it hidden, but there was no other way.
Yeonwoo laid out the explanation of the incident with a resigned face, and Manager Moon listened without interrupting even once.
The hotel, that walking path—
The air surrounding the earth had seemed to make her breath sweet, but the air of today, just two days later, stung her chest as if it had grown thorns.
It was a grueling time.