The hum of the café had quieted, most of the lunch crowd already drifting back to their desks.
Kyung-Ah stirred her drink absently, watching Minah's expression.
After a long pause, she leaned in slightly and asked, gently, "Minah… have your parents ever said anything about your past? Before you came to them?"
Minah's fingers stiffened around her cup.
Then, slowly, she set the drink down and pulled out her phone again. Her thumbs hovered for a second before she began to type.
She showed Kyung-Ah the screen.
"I was told to follow orders."
"Before my current family, I was adopted by another family… but after three months, they took me somewhere."
"I don't remember much."
Kyung-Ah leaned in, her smile fading into something more serious.
Minah kept typing.
"Even before the orphanage, I only remember a room."
"I was tied up."
"There were machines. Wires."
"People spoke in a language I didn't understand."
"They told me to be obedient."
The last word hung in the air like a ghost.
Kyung-Ah sat back in stunned silence. Her fingers curled around her cup, now forgotten.
"Minah…" she said softly, her voice tight with restrained emotion. "That's not… that's not something a child should ever go through."
Minah didn't respond. But her eyes drifted to the window, glassy, as if she were staring through time.
Somewhere, in the shadowy depths of her mind, those voices still echoed.
And far across the city, a certain CEO checked his phone—and the moment he saw Kyung-Ah's message summary, his entire expression shifted.
-----
After their quiet but weighty conversation, Kyung-Ah glanced at the time and offered Minah a reassuring smile.
"That's enough deep talk for one afternoon," she said gently. "Head back up. Your break's almost over."
Minah gave a small nod, stood up, and took her cup with her as she exited the café.
Kyung-Ah waited until she was out of sight before pulling out her phone.
It buzzed almost instantly.
Jaewook.
She swiped to answer, her tone shifting into something quieter, more serious.
"I sent you the summary," she said, cutting right to the point. "Everything Minah told me. It's... not something we'll get easy answers to."
On the other end, Jaewook didn't speak right away.
Kyung-Ah continued, voice low and firm, "Whatever happened to her—before the orphanage—wasn't a normal adoption case. She mentioned machines, wires, being tied up, and a foreign language. This smells like a cover-up."
A pause. Then—
"I know," Jaewook said grimly.
Kyung-Ah narrowed her eyes slightly. "Are you sure you want to keep going down this road? I wasn't exaggerating when I said this might be deeper than either of us thought."
"I need to know," Jaewook replied. "If someone hurt her, I'll find out who."
Kyung-Ah exhaled. "Then I'll keep pressing on my end. But just a warning—if this goes where I think it might be heading, it's not just dirty family secrets we're dealing with. It might be something... bigger."
Silence hung between them.
Then Jaewook's voice, steady but laced with something cold:
"Let it get bigger. I'm ready."
-----
That afternoon, Hyun Soo arrived at Jaewook's villa like he owned the place.
After dropping Minah off at work earlier, he'd decided the household was in dire need of two things: groceries… and milk tea.
He whistled as he walked into the kitchen, arms full of ingredients and ambition.
Unfortunately, the ambition was stronger than the cooking skills.
---
Upstairs, Minah had already showered and changed into something comfortable—an oversized sweatshirt and soft cotton pants. She towel-dried her hair gently when suddenly—
Sniff sniff.
Something was… burning?
She opened her door cautiously and followed the faint trail of smoke down the stairs.
When she reached the kitchen, she blinked.
Hyun Soo stood by the stove, frantically waving a towel at a pan that was definitely not supposed to be that color.
"Cough, cough!" he turned, eyes watery. "I swear I was following the recipe! It said medium heat, but my soul says high heat!"
Minah's nose crinkled, but she moved calmly to the balcony door, cracked it open, and made sure the curtain stayed drawn—Jaewook's vampire-skin needed no unwanted UV.
Once the smoke began to thin, Minah walked over to Hyun Soo, opened her phone, and typed quickly. Then showed him the screen:
"I'll cook. You rest. Japanese curry is easy. I'll stir-fry vegetables too."
Hyun Soo blinked at the message, then blinked at her.
"You cook too?! What don't you do?"
Before she could type another word, another voice cut through the smoky tension.
"Hyun Soo—" came Jaewook's deep voice from the stairs.
He entered the room and immediately pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand covering his face.
"Hyun Soo, I swear… if you burn my kitchen one more time—"
Hyun Soo raised both hands in defense. "Listen! It was only slightly crispy—"
Jaewook narrowed his eyes. "Was it airborne crispy?"
Minah tried not to laugh—but her shoulders gave her away.
Jaewook looked at her, then at the ingredients she was now calmly preparing.