Unraveling the broken pieces of her past, tracing the tenuous thread that Hyun-soo had left behind like a lifeline amidst a vast and frightening sea, Seo-yeon was pulled towards a desolate location veiled in silence and rot—an abandoned conservatory at the periphery of Seoul, where the whispers of forgotten songs and unuttered truths hung suspended in each of the dust-filled rooms.
But not all of the memories were happy to stay quiet, dormant artifacts of a past life. Some woke up in the darkness, their whispers soft but persistent, promising to shatter the skillfully built walls of her denial and expose a truth more intricate and perilous than she could ever have conceived.
Her heels clicked sharply on the cold, empty corridor beyond Joon-woo's office, the mechanical click-clack a harsh, almost unendearingly ominous sound, as if a metronome pitilessly ticking away the final seconds to something long in coming, a reckoning that had been quietly building up for years.
