But i wasn't a liar ✔️[ENG ver]

Part 57

Part 57

After 7 years

The unrelenting march of time had carved six long years into their grieving hearts—each second a tremor, each minute an earthquake, each day another layer of scar tissue over wounds that never truly healed. Yet through the unending ache, their determination to honor Hyunjin's legacy had only crystallized into something unbreakable.

May 26, 2025. The anniversary of Hyunjin's ascension to angelhood.

Across South Korea, a quiet preparation was underway. Flower vendors found their white lilies sold out by dawn. Schoolchildren polished their "Little Hero" badges. Office workers set aside black mourning bands. The nation moved as one toward the cemetery, drawn by an invisible thread of collective memory.

What began as spontaneous mourning had hardened into sacred tradition. There wasn't a child who couldn't recite Hyunjin's story, nor an adult who didn't pause when passing the memorial wall where his smile was forever enshrined in mosaic tiles made from donated pocket change.

At the gravesite, the air hummed with whispered prayers and rustling petals. Some visitors touched the headstone like reaching for a saint's relic. Others left handwritten notes weighted with pebbles: "My daughter is alive because of you." "I became a social worker in your name." "We remember."

Hyunjin had achieved in death what few do in life—transcending flesh to become something eternal. Not just a memory, but a living ideal woven into the fabric of a nation's conscience. The boy who saved children had become the guardian angel watching over all children, his name spoken with the same reverence as folklore heroes and patron saints.

As sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, the last visitors departed. Only the flowers remained, their ivory petals glowing faintly in the twilight—countless silent voices saying what words never could: You are not forgotten. You will never be forgotten.

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the cemetery as they stood before Hyunjin's grave—no longer with tears, but with quiet pride.

Mr. Hwang placed a gentle hand on the cool stone, his voice steady yet soft. "I know your place now is far more peaceful than your home ever was. I am honored... to have been the father of a son like you."

Beside him, Mr. Lee touched his arm. "Brother, why don't you sit?"

Mr. Hwang shook his head. "No. That privilege belongs to you first."

One by one, the families came—each bringing children whose lives Hyunjin had saved. They placed flowers, whispered thanks, and left, leaving only Yeji and Yuna behind.

Yeji knelt between Leeknow and Hyunjin's graves, a single tear tracing her cheek. "Hello, you two," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I know your dream is finally fulfilled... but Yuna and I have a surprise for you." She glanced at Yuna, who nodded in agreement.

Yuna added, "But we won't tell you yet—you'll have to wait a little longer."

Yeji's voice wavered. "You three couldn't become doctors... but we did it for you. I hope... wherever you are... you're happy."

The tears came then, silent and unstoppable. But before they could linger in their grief, Yuna's phone rang sharply in the quiet.

"Hello? Soojae?"

"Yuna, you and Yeji need to come to the hospital now. Emergency operation."

Yuna's expression shifted instantly. "Understood. We're on our way." She hung up and turned to Yeji. "We have to go. Now."