Eun ji was raised in London with her mother for eight years,
far away from her father's family in Korea.
In the beginning of 2013, her mother became ill and was diagnosed with cancer.
Two months later, her mother passed away leaving her side. She...
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I breathe out the heavy, stifling air and glance out the window of my brother's car.
"Tell me again... why do I have to come here?" I ask my brother, seated in the driver's seat beside me.
"Because he's Chairman Kim, our father, and whatever he decides goes," he replies, his voice flat, as if the answer is obvious.
"Yes, but I was happy in Europe, living my peaceful life. Why did I have to be dragged back into this mess?" I try to stay calm, but the irritation is clear in my voice. He turns to me, concerned, sensing the hidden sadness beneath my words.
"The only reason I'm here is that he had me dragged back by force, not by my choice, Oppa," I clarify, getting out of the car as I take a deep breath. He follows, stepping onto the sidewalk and looking at me, his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Do you really have to stay here as a social-care student? You're putting yourself in danger, being at the lowest rung in this school," he asks worriedly, referring to the treacherous life awaiting me at this place.
"You know, the students here only care about one thing—your status. The hierarchy is crazy. It's madness."
"And whose fault is that?" I ask sarcastically, my voice sharp. "Oh right, the person who set this all up is the one you exiled to another continent," I say, reminding him of what happened to one of our siblings.
"You don't know what really happened," he says, a little softer. "Just... promise me you'll be careful, okay?" His hand pats my head gently, attempting to soothe me, and I sigh, giving in.
As I make my way to the school entrance, a shadowy figure watches from afar, their gaze fixed on us.
The moment I step through the gate, the invisible emblem of the school seems to shout "WELCOME TO HELL,"accompanied by an eerie, imaginary laugh in my head. I move forward, ignoring the stares from students, their whispers swirling around me. My brother had warned me about this. The others would watch, scrutinize, wonder if I was one of them or just another prey.
