❝ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬❞ Months have passed since San left behind everything he ever desired, determined to confront the demons that had him spiraling without reprieve. Cursed and bound by fate, it became increasingly difficult for him no...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
《 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˊˎ- 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬𝐏𝐎𝐕 》
As I ignored the jests and faux threats from Yeosang, I tugged San with me as we descended the stairs. Hyunjin crosses our gaze with a lingering smile before waving us closer, drawing our intrigue as we elect to follow rather than continue our spontaneous desire to remain at one another's throats. Upon reaching him within an arm's length, Hyunjin hands over an envelope, San's name written in legible ink.
"It arrived today; I think you should take a look." Hyunjin says, his voice oddly serious, weighing the depth of whatever remained within the folded casing.
Seonghwa, having appeared from nearby, spoke to us and the group itself, his voice carrying the usual softened demand of order amongst the crowd. "Alright, go ahead and unwind for a bit– shower, relax. We're gathering in an hour for a brief meeting."
San strode towards his office without another word, his urgency apparent. I followed quickly, trying to remain calm as I thought into the depth of what this letter possibly entailed, a sudden curl of anxiety swelling beneath my gut.
I closed San's office door behind us as we strode inside, the click of the door barely audible as I closed it gently. San stood in the middle of the room, the letter unfolding within San's slightly shaking hands. Unknowing if I should look over his shoulder, I hover nearby, remaining present in the event that he needed me for any reassurance or act of comfort.
His posture was rigid, his eyes scanning over the words in an act of hurried disbelief. The slight shifts in his expression, moving from concern to shock, back again to a wave of unwavering turmoil. There seemed to be a pain nestled within his expression, a slight tilt to his eyes that led me to believe that whatever he had been grappling with was nearly life altering. San's steps trail towards his desk chair, sinking into it with a heft of weight that only made me realize just how much he was struggling. I walk behind him, planting my hands carefully on the back of his chair as I read over his shoulder, scanning across the letter in an attempt to understand, to feel his visible pain, to wear the weight of this burden with him, rather than to let him shoulder any of this alone.
San'ah,
I'm reaching out from behind prison walls—a place you've never known me to be, and a place I never wished to reveal to you. It grieves me to think that we've never met, given that I played a role in shielding you during those reckless years following our sister's tragic death. The burden of her untimely demise fell unjustly on me, orchestrated by our mother who believed I knew too much. It's crucial for you to understand that our parents were far more involved in her death than you might have ever imagined.
The figures you know as Sunghoon, Jisung, and Minho were mere pawns in a larger scheme that targeted our innocent sister—there was never a debt, only a series of calculated moves masked as fate. I've been plotting my escape, not just from this physical confinement but from the shadows that have long clouded our family's legacy. You're next in line, and I refuse to let history repeat itself.
