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CHAPTER II "They called him dangerous, he was my safe."
Seoul, South Korea, Jeon's residence, 10:34 a.m.
IT'S BEEN ONE week already. Her life was still the same just some ups and downs in her daily routine. Nights have become a battleground for her mind, plagued by insomnia and restless thoughts that refuse to quiet.
Desperate for respite, she turns to sedatives, seeking solace in their temporary embrace, yet finding no true escape from the gnawing grief that haunts her every waking moment.
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As the relentless rain cascaded down upon the windows, its rhythmic patter echoing through the cavernous halls of the opulent estate, Y/N found herself summoned to Jong-yeon's office.
With each step, the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of old memories and unspoken dreams.
Jong-yeon sat poised behind her mahogany desk, her presence a study in quiet contemplation as she held a small, yellow-colored box in her delicate hands.
The corners of her lips curved upwards in a bittersweet smile as Y/N approached, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
With a solemn nod, Jong-yeon extended the box towards Y/N, her fingers trembling ever so slightly with the weight of the memories contained within.
"This is for you," she said softly, her voice a gentle whisper amidst the storm raging outside.
Y/N's heart quickened with anticipation as she accepted the box, its weight a tangible reminder of the secrets and revelations it held within.
With trembling hands, she lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of faded photographs and cherished mementos.
Amidst the sepia-toned snapshots of bygone days lay a collection of images capturing moments of youthful exuberance, frozen in time like relics of a forgotten era.
Among them, Y/N discovered photographs of Jong-yeon and her mother Seo-yun during their high school years, their smiles a poignant reminder of the innocence and hope that once filled their hearts.
As Y/N sifted through the memories contained within the box, Jong-yeon's voice filled the room, her words heavy with emotion and unspoken longing.
"Your mother had dreams," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of the moment.
"She dreamed of attending Seoul National University, of studying music and pursuing her passion. But fate had other plans for her." Jong-yeon's voice broke.
