The day of the funeral the sky threatened rain in the dark grey clouds hovering over the somber gathering. This was no celebration and Irene only invited her parents and Jonghyun to attend. The only other attendee was her ex-husband, Suho. Irene didn't want friends or semi-friends to smother her with sympathy. Nothing they would say could make her feel better. Nothing they could say would bring back the only part of her life that made her happy.

Irene did not pay for a service to be done before the burial. Words would do nothing to soften the reality before her.

Now, dresed all in black, she stood with her parents at her daughter's coffin. She stepped forward still holding a large frame holding a picture of her beloved daughter.

"I miss you so much, baby," Irene whispered as she placed roses on the coffin. "What will I do without you?"

Her parents and her ex-husband paid their respects before the coffin was placed into the grave and buried.

She felt like something hit her so hard in her stomach and chest. The pain became unbearable and she buried herself in her mother's arms as she wept for her child. 

After the burial, everyone parted ways to return to their lives. Suho said nothing to Irene since they divorced on bad terms and his new wife waited for him in a black car a distance away from where Jonghyun was parked.

"Is there anything you need?" Mrs. Bae gently rubbed Irene's back. "Shall we stay with you?"

Irene shook her head. "I just want to be alone."

"Call us if you need anything," Irene's father told her before they said goodbye.

Now, Jonghyun drove Irene back home because she was not in the best mindset to drive alone. The loss of her daugher, Yerim, sent her drowning in despair and he feared she may do something to harm herself. 

The entire trip back it was quiet. Jonghyun initially some music to ease out the tensions, but Irene shut it off as soon as it transitioned to cringy advertisements.

When they arrived at Irene's villa, Jonghyun quickly went to open the door for his younger sister. Much to his surprise, she held onto his arm as they walked to the front porch together.

"Please leave," Irene told him as she entered her home. This was probably the nicest she had been to her older brother in a while (using the word 'please').

"Of course." Jonghyun didn't miss the sad expression on his sister's face, but he respected her decision. "Let me know if you need anything."

But the statement was met with a door slam to the face.

--

Wendy had been put to work since before the sun rose. Irene woke her early to boss her around again. First thing in the morning, she made breakfast for Irene, who was very particular about how her oatmeal and coffee had to be in order for it to be of edible quality according to the woman's standards. 

She got it wrong the first time, of course; and Irene made her eat it instead. Her hawk eyes carefully watched Wendy eat every mouthful of the oatmeal. 

"Hurry up," Irene snapped. "I don't have time to watch you like a baby."

Then, Irene ordered her to clean up the mess her study had become and reorganize her paperwork by date. There were stacks and stacks of that, and Wendy calculated it woudl take her way more than 24 hours to finish it up. "I want it all to be done before I come back," Irene growled.

The woman disappeared from the study leaving Wendy completely to her own devices. Wendy heard the lock turn from the other side, but she mused that if she really wanted, she could jump off the balcony to her demise.

But it seemed that Irene was very equipped with security. Everything in here needed a key to open up. 

Wendy held a hand to her stomach that felt full from the oatmeal. She glanced to the restroom door in the study and without a second thought, went in to relieve herself of the feeling that she was 'full'. felt raw and scratchy after vomiting up the oatmeal, and a last convulsion sent tremors down her body. She coughed and spat extra saliva that accumulated in , and then flushed the toilet. 

After rinsing and face, she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time. Her collarbones protruded, and her skin seemed to hug her bones. The first thought in her mind was she wasn't skinny enough ever since she got here.

She was disgusted with the image and she turned away from it to begin cleaning Irene's study because she didn't want to get yelled at.

She wasn't even sure where the hell Irene was going.

Wendy kept telling herself she had to be thankful that at least Irene did let her stay for a little.

She vacuumed the place first because there was cigarette dust by the balcony door that must have flown in with the wind while she enjoyed them outside. There were a couple cig boxes on the floor that she threw in the dustbin. The vacuum was heavy and Wendy felt her strength waning pretty quickly so it took a little longer than expected since she had to take short breaks every now and then.

After that, she dusted the shelves she could reach. By the end, her body was dead and she really wanted to sleep, but she still had to organize Irene's mountain high pile of paperwork.

Wendy sat down with the stacks and picked up the first stapled packet. There was at least a couple hundred of these papers here.

With a heavy sigh, she got to work separating the packs by alphabet before arranging each individual new stack into true alphabetical order.

Her stomach growled, but she had learned to ignore the hunger pangs. She continued to organize the stacks with an occasional break laying on the floor and staring at the high ceiling that had a very detailed painting of a sunset sky.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep without finishing the task Irene assigned.

Irene went down to her basement, which was well kept and became a storage for her wine collection that she accumulated from gifts ever since she married Suho and became a very powerful businesswoman.

She grabbed the nearest bottle off the rack and used an opener to pop off the cork. WIthout any delay, she tipped the bottle to her lips and drank half the bottle before she needed to break for air.

How did her life go so wrong in the blink of an eye?

With botttle still in hand, Irene climbed back up the stairs to the surface and nearly tripped. She giggled to herself already succumbing to the effects of the wine, thinking to herself how silly she was to trip on her own feet.

She walked to the den where there were comfortable sofas and chairs lined up against the walls that faced a alrge screen television. Irene flopped down onto one of them, clumsily spilling the wine as she came down.

While she rested, the picture of her and her daughter (4 years old at the time of the picture) caught her eye and she reached for it, seeming to break out of her drunken state.

"Yerimmie..." She let go of the wine bottle, the dark reddish-purple liquid flowing out and messing up the cushions and carpet. "Yerimmie, why did you have to leave me alone? Why did you have to die?"

Tears sprung from her eyes as her grip tightened so hard on the frame that the glass broke. 

She threw the picture at the wall, the glass shattering into a million pieces from the impact. Irene sobbed and curled up on the sofa hugging a pillow to her chest, calling her daughter's name again and again. 

--

Irene awoke sometime in the late morning of the following day. She slowly pushed herself up, a headache beginning to pang like a hammer trying to smash out of her. She felt wet liquid on her face.

WIne? she saw the fallen bottle on the floor nad the stains it had left behind.

Across from her, the wall was damaged slightly and the glass frame holding her beloved picutre of her daughter was shattered on the floor.

Irene remembered nothing of what she did and she had to check her apple watch for the current day and time.

It was already tomorrow. She still thought she was stuck in the funeral day because she still wore the funeral dress.

And that's when she remembered she had locked Wendy inside her study.

Irene stumbled over her feet and fell onto the floor. She winced at the pain her body felt from the impact, but she managed to keep steady as she climbed the stairs to her study. 

She fumbled for the keys and opened the oak doors. The AC was on for circulation while the balcony doors and these oak ones were locked to keep Wendy from roaming free since she did not trust the girl - although Wendy seemed to be harmless.

When she walked in, the first thing she noticed was her paperwork stacked into neat piles, but not finished.

Wendy lay unconscious among the papers and Irene could only freeze in horror seeing the limp body of her daughter in place of Wendy's.

--

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I'm not sure if this chap was moving too fast?