Dong Youngbae’s POV:

It was 3 in the morning when I entered the kitchen to look for something to eat. Not bothering to turn the lights on, I ran straight for the fridge, hoping for some leftovers. I’ve had trouble sleeping since Yoona’s disappearance. Partly because I know it’s my fault. I was her oppa. I should be protecting her. But instead, I yelled at her. I hurt her. I shouldn’t have said she was useless. I shouldn’t have slapped her.  Frustrated, I hugged knees, burying my head into them.

That night. I wasn’t myself. I hadn’t been myself since I left for business school and since Yoona moved out for her boarding school. She had kept me anchored to the ground, unintentionally reminding me that there’s more to life than money. But that night, I had become the one person I feared. I became my father; cold, heartless and arrogant. I wasn’t thinking when I slapped her. I just remembered that what she was saying was just pointless and childish. But after slapping her, I remembered her wide eyes. They stared into me like I was a monster.

The guilt was eating me alive. I could feel it in my guts. I deserved to be stabbed, to be lashed without mercy, to be burned with scorching fire just because I had betrayed my sister. I had hurt her when all she wanted was my encouragement and advice as an older brother. I felt worse with every passing second as I thought about her. I thought about how she would always come to me first. Actually, I was the only one she talked to when she had problems. But now it seems that she can't even talk to me. Why did I change? How did I change? Had I really turned into my father?

A click sound of the switch was heard and the bright intensity of the lights snapped me out of my misery. I raised my head to see who has entered the kitchen.

“Youngbae-ah, what are you doing here at this hour?” said Mrs. Park, the head maid. She was our nanny when we were younger and had been like a second mother to us. Yoona had also accidentally called her ‘omma’ once. She sat down next to me, putting an arm around me.

“I know it’s my fault, Mrs. Park. Whatever appa said was true. It’s my fault,” I cried into her hug. She hushed me and rubbed my back, a simple gesture that has calmed me many times before. But this time, the guilt in myself was too great. And all I could do was cry for my missing sister.

“It’s not, Bae. Don’t blame yourself. What you did that night has nothing to do with her running away,” she said calmingly. She even rocked me like a little kid but I didn’t mind, I needed all the comfort available. I was in a horrible state.

“What should I do, Mrs. Park? What should I do?”

“Look for her.”

That one sentence pulled me back to reality. I realized that the police wouldn’t do a good job in finding Yoona in time. Heck, they never do. And to make it up to her and my parents, I should look for her. My head snapped up to look at Mrs. Park, smiling at her as I said, “Thank you, Mrs. Park.”

And she smiled back, giving me courage for the search.