The Price Of Redemption

14.

Minji anxiously paced back and forth in the living room of the new apartment, biting her nails, her eyes glued to the phone that seemed to mock her with its silence. For the past two hours, she had been desperately trying to reach Haerin, but each call had gone unanswered. As the phone rang out for what felt like the hundredth time, her frustration grew. She bit her lip hard, glancing over at Hanni, who sat curled up on the couch. Her knees were tucked tightly to her chest, face hidden in the fold of her arms, only a few strands of hair spilling over her eyes.

Minji's heart sank. She had lied to Hanni. She had told her that Haerin was coming over, knowing that Hanni had made her favorite chicken soup—Haerin's favorite dish. Hanni, eager and hopeful, had been waiting with love and excitement, her heart full at the thought of seeing her girlfriend. But as the hours dragged on and Haerin hadn't shown up, Minji's plan crumbled. She had thought she could convince Haerin to come over last minute, so what harm was there in a little white lie? Now, the weight of it was pressing down on her as Haerin refused to pick up her calls or respond to her texts.

Suddenly, Hanni lifted her head and met Minji's gaze. Her lips curled into a small, faint smile, but her eyes betrayed her pain.

"It's okay, Minji," Hanni whispered, her voice soft but trembling. She was trying to sound cheerful, but the effort was clear, and it broke Minji's heart even more.

"But Haerin..." Minji began, her voice catching, guilt twisting inside her.

"I said it's okay," Hanni interrupted, her tone more final this time, though she didn't look at Minji. Without another word, she stood up and headed to her room, her steps heavy with the weight of disappointment. The door shut behind her with a sharp bang, leaving Minji alone in the silence, feeling the full weight of what she had done.

The guilt gnawed at her, and the quiet apartment seemed to echo with the hurt she had caused

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Haerin stood on the very edge of the cliff, the wind whipping fiercely against her face, each gust more relentless than the last. The roar of the waves crashing violently against the rocks below filled the air, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside her. It was cold—bitterly so—but even the freezing wind couldn't match the icy numbness that had settled in her chest. Her hands were trembling, but not from the chill. It was her heart that felt frozen, weighed down by something much heavier than the biting cold.

The sun was slowly sinking beneath the horizon, casting an orange glow across the sky, but there was no warmth in it, no comfort. Haerin was utterly alone, not a soul in sight for miles. She closed her eyes, and as the wind howled around her, the memories of the earlier meeting flooded back into her mind...

Earlier:

Haerin and Dani sat across from each other on the worn-out benches of the old, crumbling church, a place that had once meant something to them both. But now, the silence between them was thick, heavy, and filled with unspoken words. Neither girl dared to meet the other's gaze. Though the space between them was just a few feet, it felt like an endless chasm, as if the years of distance and misunderstanding had stretched out into eternity.

Haerin's phone buzzed repeatedly in her pocket, but she didn't care. She silenced it with a quick motion, choosing instead to sit in the stillness, trying to brace herself for the conversation she knew was coming. Clearing her throat, she finally broke the quiet.