The Price Of Redemption

16.

A somber crowd, dressed in mourning black, gathered around the grave, their eyes cast downward, bathed in the shadow of a weathered old tree. The air was thick with unspoken words, as the headstone—clean and pristine—stood freshly adorned with flowers. Some were left by admirers, others by those who secretly despised her, yet all came to pay their respects. The name etched into the stone was powerful enough to silence any other, "Kang Jennie." Her legacy loomed large over those who encircled her final resting place. A place meant for quiet prayer and reflection was instead filled with hushed gossip, whispers sneaking through the air like secrets carried by the wind. The sky hung heavy, overcast but dry, as though even the weather was uncertain how to grieve.

Kang Taehyung stood at the forefront, his expression a blank mask, betraying nothing. He stared ahead, unmoved, as if he were merely a ghost of himself standing before the grave of the woman who had once been his wife. Beside him, his second wife and their son stood with carefully crafted faces, performing their rehearsed sorrow for the press, cameras clicking from the shadows, eager to capture their every move. Their grief was a spectacle, meticulously curated for the media that swarmed the cemetery, but the truth lingered beneath their hollow expressions—cold, hidden, and unspoken.

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"Have you arrived?" Hyein's familiar voice crackled through the line just as Dani rushed into the backseat of the cab she had hailed earlier.

"No, not yet," Dani replied, her words laced with frustration as she let out a deep sigh. "I just got in the car." She cursed herself silently; her alarm had failed her that morning, making her late to pay respects to her late aunt, Jennie.

"Okay, just let me know when you get there," Hyein said with gentle concern.

Dani couldn't help but chuckle softly, trying to ease the tension she felt. "Hyein, stop acting like a mom."

"I'm not acting like a mom!" Hyein protested defensively. "I'm just being a good friend, that's all."

The two shared a few playful jabs, their banter flowing easily, momentarily lifting the heaviness in Dani's heart. But as the conversation drew to a close, Dani hung up and turned her gaze to the window. The world outside was muted and gray, the sky thick with dark clouds that seemed to be swallowing the horizon.

"It's going to rain soon," she murmured to herself, watching as the clouds churned in the distance, reflecting the unease brewing inside her.

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"So, all I need to do is to pay respects to your mother?" a woman asked, her voice uncertain as she adjusted the single earpiece in her left ear. She couldn't shake the knot of anxiety forming in her chest. The luxurious black Mercedes she sat in glided effortlessly down the road, but her mind felt anything but smooth.

"Yes," came the reply, the voice on the other end calm yet stern, offering no room for hesitation. "That's all you need to do for now."

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An unremarkable car pulled up quietly in front of the cemetery, its engine fading into the background hum of the crowd. Dani stepped out, smoothing down her dress as her eyes widened in awe. She hadn't expected this many people—dozens of mourners gathered, their dark figures scattered like shadows under the gray sky. The sight struck her, the devotion these people seemed to have, even after all these years. But what she didn't realize, not yet, was that this was no solemn tribute. It was all an act, a performance for the hungry eyes of the media.