The next day.
Ji-Heon had been busy since the crack of dawn. Between an out-of-town trip to Incheon for a lunch meeting and a head office conference in the afternoon, his schedule was relentless. By the time he returned to the office just as the workday was ending, his secretary was there to greet him.
“Director, you’ve returned.”
“Has anyone reached out?”
“The Managing Director from Jae-Eun Construction called this morning, and the CEO of Lahan Ceramics said they’d be in touch separately. Also, Lawyer Eun-Yeop Chae stopped by briefly earlier.”
Eun-Yeop Chae. He was Ji-Heon’s high school classmate and Eun-Bi’s older brother—a sharp lawyer at a prestigious firm. Because his firm handled external legal consulting for Seryun Group, he was a familiar face in the office. It was likely he had dropped by to see Ji-Heon while he was already on-site for a consultation.
“I see,” Ji-Heon replied.
“Oh, one more thing. Assistant Manager Jeong-o Lee from Production Team 1 stopped by yesterday.”
As Ji-Heon reached for his office door, his secretary delivered the message she hadn’t managed to pass on the day before. He froze, his hand still resting on the doorknob.
“When?”
“While you were in the breakroom. I did let her know you were there, though.”
*Didn’t she say she came to read books yesterday?*
He had been certain it was just an excuse, but now that it was confirmed, a faint smile tugged at his lips. *She went to such lengths to find me? Why? Because she felt wronged by what Park Seung-Gyu said to her?*
“Call her.”
For some reason, the thought of her made him feel strangely restless.
***
Tasks were piling up on her desk, one after another.
Jeong-o spent the entire morning refining online ad copy, and the afternoon securing client approvals and starting on variation work. As she sat next to Gihun, checking dozens of banners, a wave of dizziness washed over her. It was likely the lack of sleep catching up to her.
“Huh? Assistant Manager, I think there’s a typo here.”
As she stared at the screen through bleary eyes, Gihun tapped his finger on the final draft. Jeong-o leaned in to inspect the text.
*- Prime Outlet’s first-season OFF sale! Up to 75% murder! Enjoy the benefits at Prime prices!*
“Gasp.”
She had accidentally typed ‘75% murder’ instead of ‘75% off.’ The exciting sales event had nearly become a horrific crime scene. She quickly slapped her hand over the screen, praying no one had seen.
*To think I got this approved without noticing.* It was sheer luck the client hadn’t caught it. Given the draft was nearly thirty pages long, it seemed they had only skimmed it.
Gihun chuckled, teasing her. “I mean, wouldn’t doing only 75% of a murder count as attempted murder?”
“It’s a secret, Gihun. Please, keep it a secret,” she whispered, pleading.
“We’ll see.”
“Don’t be like that, just let it slide. Is there anything you want to eat? Should I buy you dinner?”
“I don’t think one meal will cut it.”
Amused by her desperate expression, Gihun teased her further. Just then, the landline on her desk rang. Jeong-o picked it up.
“Yes, this is Jeong-o Lee.”
[Assistant Manager Lee. This is Yoon Ae-Ra, Director Ji-Heon Jeong’s secretary. The Director would like to see you.]
Jeong-o froze, the receiver still clutched in her hand. *Why? Why him again?*
[I believe it’s because you were looking for him yesterday.]
“…Yes. Understood.”
She hung up slowly. Gihun looked over, concerned. “Assistant Manager? Is something wrong?”
“Huh? Oh… no. I just need to head out for a moment.”
“Where?”
Unable to answer, Jeong-o stood up and began to walk. She thought she knew why he had called. Since she’d been reduced to tears in front of him yesterday, it must be awkward. She regretted acting so impulsively.
Knock, knock.
“Director. This is Jeong-o Lee.”
“Come in.”
As she entered, Ji-Heon rose from his seat. She bowed stiffly, her face as pale as ever. This was the first time he had summoned an assistant manager to his office twice in such a short period.
“You called for me?”
Her eyes were narrowed, her expression guarded. She was trying hard to appear nonchalant, but that only made her underlying fear more apparent.
*To think she’s this nervous, yet bolder than anyone else.*
That adorable contradiction piqued his interest. *‘This isn’t normal.’*
These feelings were not normal, and Ji-Heon was beginning to realize it. His attachment to this woman had already crossed the professional line. Yet, he still needed to gauge her. Was this just her natural-born grit, or was there some ulterior motive?
*I want to have you, but I don’t want to give you my heart.* That was the way of Ji-Heon Jeong, a man who trusted no one.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.
They were alone in the silence of his office. Knowing what kind of man he was, Jeong-o felt herself tensing up. Her gaze dropped, landing on his broad chest, rising and falling with his rhythmic breathing. The fact that even his basic biological functions felt “obscene” to her was due to the weight of her memories. She lowered her head further, trying to shake the thought.
A box of cookies sat on the table.
“Take as many as you’d like. It’s the same cookie from yesterday.”
“Yes?”
“The one you asked me why I was throwing away. This is it.”
“…You picked them out of the trash?”
“Do you not like them?”
“Ah, no.”
Jeong-o blankly picked up a package and set it on her lap. *Surely he didn’t call me here just to feed me trash-can cookies.*
As expected, Ji-Heon cut to the chase.
“I heard from my secretary. That you were looking for me yesterday.”
“Ah… yes.”
“Tell me. Why were you looking for me so desperately?”
“I was looking for you because of the cookies, too,” she said, her voice clear and practiced. “I wanted to tell you: if you’re going to throw away food, please give it to me instead.”
*Yes, you must be suspicious. But believe me!*
“I’m very serious about food.”
“You searched the whole company just to say that?”
“Yes.”
“And you cried because you couldn’t tell me that?”
“That… there were other circumstances.”
“What kind of circumstances?”
“Just, personal ones.”
She felt Ji-Heon’s gaze boring into her, his mouth set in a thin line. She worried her inner thoughts were being laid bare, but he pivoted to an unexpected question.
“Did Team Leader Seung-Gyu Park threaten you?”
“Yes?”
“Team Leader Seung-Gyu Park. From HR.”
“Ah, no. Not at all. He seems like a good person.”
She waved her hands in denial, but Ji-Heon remained unconvinced.
*‘Don’t show weakness,’* she warned herself. But her nose began to tingle.
A man who hadn’t told her his family background, hadn’t introduced her to his friends, hadn’t even said he loved her. A man who had forgotten everything, and who now suspected her of motives she didn’t have. He didn’t even know she was pregnant with his child.
*Were you a bad person, or were you just pitiful?*
Suddenly, Jeong-o’s eyes widened. Something didn’t add up. Seven years ago, after the accident, he had lost his memory.
*‘But I clearly talked to him on the phone after the accident. If he lost his memory, how did he call me?’*
*‘Did he say such harsh things because he didn’t remember me and thought I was a stalker?’*
That had to be it. But even if she were a stranger, he should at least remember her name. The man she met in the hallway the day before yesterday had looked at her as if the name ‘Jeong-o Lee’ meant absolutely nothing to him.
*‘Is it possible he remembers, but is pretending not to?’*
*Is this all an elaborate act?*
She wasn’t sure. The Ji-Heon from seven years ago and the man in front of her were like night and day. If this was all just a ploy to satisfy his desires, was their love—? It wasn’t impossible to mimic someone else. If not for the accident, he might have dragged her to the clinic himself to force an abortion.
*‘Perhaps… it wasn’t him who called me that day.’*
She remembered every word from that November phone call with terrifying clarity.
*[I understand that my mother met with you on my behalf. Didn’t everything end there?]*
*[It’s burdensome, so could you stop contacting me?]*
*[You wouldn’t want to be a stumbling block in someone else’s life, would you?]*
But was that truly his voice? In her shock, she had been convinced it was him. If that call had been fabricated, then they had been torn apart by a scheme.
“Um, Director.”
She gathered her courage.
“Yes?”
“Have you ever heard my name before? My name. Jeong-o Lee.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Ji-Heon paused, looking at her with a formal, perfunctory air.
“Did you film a commercial famous enough for your name to stay in my memory?”
*He doesn’t know.*
*You heartless man.*
Jeong-o was now certain. The call from seven years ago was a fabrication. She felt like bursting into tears all over again. What should she do now? If he had truly forgotten her, was it right to tell him about her identity and Ye-Na? They had lived as strangers for seven years. He was meant to build a real family with someone else now, wasn’t he?
But she couldn’t deliberate for long. It was better for him to know now, before he married. For his sake, for Ye-Na’s sake, and for her own.
“I have something to tell you, Director.”
***
Ye-Na sighed as she stepped off the daycare bus. They had promised to pick her up from the academy, but no one was there. She decided to walk alone; it wasn’t far.
She had taken ten steps when a woman approached. “Oh? There you are! Your teacher has been looking everywhere for you.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m the new teacher. You’re Ye-Na, right?”
The woman grabbed her hand—a little too tightly. “Let’s go. We’re in a hurry.”
Ye-Na had to run to keep up. But they weren’t heading toward the academy. “Excuse me, where are we going?”
“The academy moved. Didn’t you know?”
A child could not win against an adult’s momentum. Ye-Na felt a chill of fear. The academy sign was already out of sight.
“I want to call my mom,” Ye-Na said, digging her heels into the pavement.
The woman looked startled, immediately shaking off Ye-Na’s hand. “Oh my, who are you?”
The woman wrinkled her face as if Ye-Na were something disgusting and walked away quickly. Ye-Na stood alone on a strange, unfamiliar path.
“Mommy…” her voice trembled, fading into the street.
***
Do-Bin, waiting at the Baduk academy, grew anxious. *‘Is Ye-Na not coming?’*
He grabbed the teacher’s pant leg. “Can I go with you to find her?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
They waited in front of the building, but ten minutes passed with no sign of her. The teacher dialed the daycare.
[Oh? Ye-Na got off the bus 15 minutes ago.]
The color drained from the teacher’s face. Do-Bin felt his own heart stop.
“Teacher, did Ye-Na disappear?”
*No. I cannot live in a world without her,* Do-Bin thought.
He cupped his small hands around his mouth and shouted, “Ye-Na! Ye-Na Lee!”
His anxious cry drew the gazes of passersby.
“Ye-Na Leeeeeee!”
An elderly man passing by laughed. “That kid. Such a powerful voice.”
“You shouldn’t be laughing!” Do-Bin sobbed. “Ye-Na has disappeared!”