"Oh! There you are."

SeulGi looked up as her mother, Mrs Kang, emerged from the house. She stood at the entrance with an air of expectancy, evidently ready to greet her returning daughter.

Even though the rain had subsided some time ago, SeulGi clung tenaciously to the umbrella JooHyun had provided, keeping it unfurled as if it were a crucial part of her existence.

"Your friend came earlier and asked for your whereabouts," SeulGi's mother shared, her countenance adorned with a strangely satisfied smile. "And she brought us lots of beef and new toys for your siblings."

"You even told her where I work, didn't you?" SeulGi's jaw tightened, suppressing the escalating anger that simmered beneath the surface. The unspoken resentment burned within her. "Why did you?" she added, preventing any immediate response from her mother.

SeulGi felt a surge of frustration bubbling up inside her as she struggled to comprehend her mother's response. "Why?" she repeated, her voice still steady but tinged with a growing annoyance.

The older woman, appearing genuinely perplexed, blinked a couple of times. "She's your friend. There's no harm in telling her that," she insisted, her tone carrying a touch of confusion.

SeulGi's patience was wearing thin. "Stop lying," she responded with controlled calmness, trying to maintain her composure.

"Why are you so mad?" SeulGi's mother questioned, her own confusion growing.

SeulGi, now visibly irritated, insisted, "I'm not mad. I just told you to stop lying and tell me the truth," her breathing becoming more rapid as she struggled to contain her emotions.

Sighing, SeulGi's mother placed her hands on her waist and turned to face the side, breaking eye contact with her daughter. The warm smile that had greeted SeulGi earlier had vanished, replaced by a more serious expression. "I just had to do her a favor for giving us so much."

"Why?" SeulGi lowered the umbrella to her side. "You could have turned it down. So, why?"

Mrs Kang turned to SeulGi again, her frown deepening as she seemed utterly dumbfounded. "Why are you getting so worked up? Isn't she your friend?"

SeulGi's heart burned with anger as she unleashed her pent-up emotions. "Have you even bothered to check if I had any friends back then?" The accusation dripped with the bitterness she had harbored for years. Dismissing the umbrella, her eyes bore into her mother's, a tumultuous mix of anger and the lingering ache of abandonment. "All you ever cared about was money, money, and more money! Not once did you ask how I was, if I had eaten, or if I was okay."

A weighty silence hung in the air, pregnant with the burden of SeulGi's emotions. Her voice quivered with restrained emotion. "I called you once, with my voice hoarse with hope that you'd ask if I had a cold, but you didn't." Gritting her teeth, she fought back tears, the pain etched on her face. "Instead, you only cared about whether I received my salary. And when you didn't get the answer you wanted, you hung up."

Mrs Kang's voice rose in defense, eyes widening in a threatening manner. "It was because we ran out of groceries! Did you want us to starve instead? Is that what you wanted?"

"That's not what..." SeulGi's eyes shut tight, unable to contain the flood of emotions. She turned away from her mother, a mixture of frustration and desperation etched on her face. "God..." The words caught in , her heart tightening painfully as she grappled with the overwhelming desire for her mother's genuine care.

"Fine." The older woman's words hung heavily in the air. "I won't ask for your money anymore." Her voice was a mixture of resignation and disappointment as she dropped her arms to her sides and retreated into the house, leaving SeulGi standing alone.

SeulGi's gaze shifted upward, meeting the cloudy sky with a profound emptiness in her eyes. A small, bitter laugh escaped her, a hollow sound echoing the ache within. With held-back tears finally breaking free, she bit down on her lower lip, a futile attempt to contain the emotional turmoil. Her hand instinctively moved to her chest, as if the physical pressure could alleviate the inexplicable pain lodged deep within her heart.

-

The clock's digits blinked a stark 1:17 AM as SeulGi, restless and unable to surrender to sleep, let out a heavy sigh. Determined to break free from the confines of her sleepless night, she sat up, the room cloaked in darkness. Tying her dark hair into a hasty ponytail, she slipped out of her room, seeking solace in the stillness of her surroundings.

The living room welcomed her with a shroud of silence. Her mother and siblings, the usual sources of chaos, were lost in the embrace of sleep. SeulGi found comfort in the quietude, a rare respite from the clamour of daily life. Without disturbing the shadows with artificial light, she moved silently to the kitchen, her bare feet navigating the familiar terrain.

A glass of water in hand, SeulGi gravitated towards the entrance door, leaning against the cool frame. She opened herself up to the night, absorbing the tranquility that enveloped her senses. The nocturnal symphony of nature played its gentle tune, and the stars above offered a celestial ballet.

Lost in the captivating beauty of the night, SeulGi's gaze unexpectedly fell upon the abandoned umbrella, a silent witness to the storm from days ago. Placing the glass on the floor, she slipped into her sandals and ventured out to retrieve the forgotten companion.

“Are you dumb?!”

SeulGi's brows knitted in confusion, her hand remaining firmly pressed against her cheek with the ice pack. The other hand found its place on the back of her head, where JooHyun had delivered another unexpected slap.

Amidst the downpour, an unusual silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the rhythmic cadence of JooHyun's laboured breaths and SeulGi's surprisingly tranquil exhalations. The absence of SeulGi's usual sharp retorts felt like a strange dissonance, a break from their established norm.

JooHyun, her face marked with a deepening frown, sensed the uncharacteristic quietude. She bridged the gap between them, angling the umbrella to shield SeulGi from the relentless rain. The protective gesture felt instinctual, a momentary truce between two forces accustomed to discord.

The silence stretched, amplifying the sound of raindrops against the umbrella.

"I told you I'm good," SeulGi eventually muttered, breaking the quiet as she tried to understand JooHyun's motives for standing there.

JooHyun wasn't ready to let it slide. "What are you good at, actually?" she questioned, her tone laced with a hint of skepticism.

SeulGi sighed, frustrated. "Just go back, will you? You don’t even know me."

JooHyun, undeterred, challenged her, "Do you know me, then?"

"I don't. And I don’t wish to—" SeulGi began, but JooHyun cut her off with a slight raise in her voice.

"Exactly, we don’t," JooHyun asserted, her frown dee