𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 ( 𝐀 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬)

•11•

Chapter 11: A Void in Our Hearts

Nia's lifeless form lay upon the sterile hospital bed, her pale skin contrasting with the crisp white sheets that covered her. Machines surrounded her, their rhythmic beeps and blinks serving as the only evidence that life still pulsed within her fragile body.

Days had turned into a blur as the medical team worked tirelessly to coax her back from the depths of induced unconsciousness. Every beep, every flicker of a monitor was scrutinized for signs of progress, for any indication that she might soon awaken. Hope was a fragile thing, kept alive by the unwavering dedication of the hospital staff.

One evening, as the golden rays of the setting sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow upon Nia's lifeless face, a pair of gentle, trembling hands reached out to grasp her cold and motionless one. The room, filled with the scent of antiseptic and the hushed whispers of nurses, seemed to hold its breath.

The man sitting beside the bed, Jongsuk, couldn't help but stare at his daughter's face, a face that he had once known to be the embodiment of happiness and innocence. Those lips, which had once held the most radiant smile, were now marred by a cruel scar that had etched its way across her features. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, now bore the heavy burden of suffering, their depths shadowed by the pain she had endured.

Jongsuk's heart ached as he traced the contour of her face with his thumb, his fingers lingering over the scar on her lips. He had never imagined that he would see his daughter again, and certainly not in this condition. It was as if the world had conspired to rob her of her happiness, to subject her to unimaginable suffering.

The memories of that fateful night replayed in his mind, each moment etched in his memory with painful clarity. The shock and disbelief he had felt upon seeing his daughter in such a state, battered and broken, were emotions that still haunted him.

"If you can hear me, I hope you get well soon, my dear," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of longing and love. "I can't—none of us can—wait to have you back home, daughter. I know everyone will be overjoyed to have you back."

A tear escaped from the corner of his eye, slowly tracing a path down his cheek. His smile, though tinged with sadness, remained on his lips as he continued to speak words of hope and encouragement to his comatose daughter.

He yearned for the day when he could hold her in his arms again, when her laughter would fill their home once more. But he also knew that there were those who would pay for the torment they had inflicted upon her. His determination to seek justice for his daughter burned brightly within him.

••••••••••

Hours earlier, in the quiet solitude of his office, Jongsuk sat behind his desk, engrossed in the finalization of important business deals. His assistant entered the room, bearing a stack of reports in his hands, and respectfully placed them on his desk.

"Sir, the test reports have been released," the assistant announced before stepping back, his posture unwavering.

Jongsuk acknowledged the information with a simple nod, and the assistant made a prompt exit. Alone in his office, he opened the file, flipping through the pages with a sense of detachment. Each word, each line, seemed to blur before his eyes until he reached the undeniable truth that leaped off the page.

He couldn't believe it. He blinked repeatedly, as if trying to dispel the illusion before him. It was a name, a name he had longed to hear, yet one that had become synonymous with despair Kim Y/n. His daughter.

His heart pounded in his chest as he reread the words, searching for any sign of error. But there was none; the reports were unequivocal. His daughter was alive, and the revelation felt like a dream,an impossible, beautiful dream.

Numbly, he traced the letters of her name on the report, as if to reassure himself of its reality. The room, once a place of business and ambition, now held a singular focus. He knew what he had to do.

His daughter was alive, and she needed him. Nothing else mattered. The deals, the business, everything could wait. He had to be by her side, to ensure her safety and to bring her back from the darkness she had endured.

With a sense of purpose that eclipsed all other concerns, Jongsuk closed the report and pushed his chair back. He was going to find his daughter, no matter the cost.

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