The night was wrapped in fog and silence. Jiwoo's footsteps echoed faintly against the worn wooden planks of the old pier. The moonlight trembled over the dark water, casting ripples of silver that made everything feel unreal—like she had stepped into someone else's dream.
She paused near the edge, the salt-laced wind brushing through her hair. Then, a faint sound—a shift in the shadows. Her heart clenched.
From the mist, a figure emerged, cloaked and hooded. Their face hidden beneath the dim shimmer of the moon.
Jiwoo's voice trembled, "Who are you?"
The figure stopped a few feet away, calm and unthreatening. "Someone who wants to help you uncover the truth."
Her pulse quickened. "What truth?"
Instead of answering, the hooded stranger extended a hand. A sealed envelope glinted in the moonlight. "Everything you've been searching for begins here. Inside, you'll find information about your father's final mission."
Jiwoo hesitated before taking it. The paper was cold, as if it had been waiting for her too long.
The figure leaned closer, voice low. "Be careful who you trust, Jiwoo. Not everyone around you stands on your side."
And before she could ask another question, they stepped backward—vanishing into the fog as if swallowed by the night itself.
Later, in the dim light of her apartment, Jiwoo and Joonhyuk sat across from each other, the envelope torn open between them. The table was covered with photographs, files, and a single flash drive. Each paper carried the scent of something dangerous—truth too heavy to hold.
Joonhyuk frowned as he flipped through the documents. "These suggest your father discovered a mole within the agency before he died."
Jiwoo's voice cracked slightly. "A mole? It can't be… Do you think it's Director Han?"
Joonhyuk leaned back, his jaw tightening. "Eighty percent sure," he muttered. "But until we get solid proof, we can't make a move. We need to gather more evidence first."
The air between them was sharp with tension and disbelief. Jiwoo's fingers brushed the photo of her father—a reminder of the man who once smiled through every danger for them.
At the agency headquarters, Jungwoo stormed into Director Han's office, the polished floor echoing beneath his steps.
"Why did you detain Jiwoo and Joonhyuk?" he demanded.
Director Han didn't even glance up from his desk. "They were interfering with a classified operation."
"Or were they getting too close to the truth?" Jungwoo countered, his voice dropping lower.
Director Han's eyes finally lifted, cold and sharp. "Watch your tone, Jungwoo. Remember who you're speaking to."
Jungwoo's fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to shout back, to tear through the lies, but the weight of duty—and the fragile safety of his family—held his tongue. So he stood in silence, swallowing words that burned his throat.
That evening, Jiwoo sat in the quiet of her apartment. The only sound was the faint hum of her laptop as she opened the flash drive. A video file blinked on the screen—"For Jiwoo and Jungwoo."
Her heart stopped.
When she pressed play, her father's face filled the screen. He looked older than she remembered, eyes shadowed with fatigue but still burning with love.
"If you're watching this," he began, voice unsteady, "it means I've failed to stop them. I tried… I tried everything to end this operation before it consumed us. But the corruption runs deeper than I feared."
He took a breath, glancing aside as though the camera couldn't bear his confession.
"I started this, Jiwoo. And because of that, I put all of you in danger. I thought I could protect you by keeping secrets, but secrets have teeth… and they bite everyone who holds them."
Jiwoo's lips trembled, eyes fixed on the screen.
"Trust no one," he said firmly. "Not even those who seem close. The rot begins from within."
Then, his tone softened, breaking.
"Jiwoo… Jungwoo… if you're watching this together, remember that everything I did—every lie, every silence—was to keep you safe. You two were my greatest pride. No matter how dark it gets, promise me you'll protect each other. Don't let my mistakes divide you. I love you both, more than you will ever know."
Her tears came before she could stop them. The words felt like an embrace from a ghost.
Jiwoo's hand pressed against her mouth to muffle a sob. "I won't let your death be in vain, Appa… I swear I won't."
A soft knock interrupted her grief. She quickly wiped her tears and closed the laptop before Joonhyuk stepped inside.
He stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing. "Jiwoo… are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said too quickly.
He tilted his head. "We've lived together for more than six months, and you still think I can't tell when you're lying?"
Her breath caught. Slowly, she looked at him, the weight of unshed emotion pulling her closer. "You know me too well," she whispered. "Thank you… for being here when I needed someone."
Before he could react, she stepped forward and hugged him tightly. Joonhyuk froze, hands trembling before gently rising to her back, his fingers brushing her hair. "It's okay," he murmured, "you don't have to hold it in anymore."
Later that night, Joonhyuk quietly cooked dinner for both of them. The simple sound of oil sizzling in the pan filled the silence that words couldn't.
Jiwoo sat at the counter, watching him. Her smile was faint, but it was there—fragile, like glass.
When they sat down to eat, Joonhyuk finally asked, "Back then… why were you crying?"
She hesitated, then reached for her phone, showing him the video.
When it ended, Joonhyuk said nothing for a long while. His expression softened as he took her hand across the table.
"You're brave, Jiwoo," he said quietly. "Braver than anyone I've met. You can make your father's wish come true—by tearing this corruption apart."
She looked at him then, really looked, and for the first time in weeks, her smile reached her eyes.
A few nights later, in a dark, abandoned warehouse, Jiwoo and Joonhyuk met an informant. The man's face was half-hidden by the flicker of a dying bulb.
"I know who the mole is," he said. "Someone higher up. Someone you'd never think to suspect."
Jiwoo's voice quivered. "Who is it?"
The man hesitated, eyes darting nervously. "Your brother."
The words landed like a bullet. Jiwoo froze, shaking her head. "No… that's not possible. Jungwoo would never—he's all I have left."
The informant's expression was grim. "I wish it weren't true. But the evidence points to him."
That night, Jiwoo confronted Jungwoo in his apartment. He opened the door with a relieved smile and stepped forward to hug her—but she stepped back.
"Jiwoo?" he said softly. "What's wrong?"
Her voice trembled but stayed sharp. "Tell me the truth, Jungwoo. Are you the mole?"
He blinked, stunned. "What?"
"Did you betray Oppa?"
His expression crumbled into confusion. "Jiwoo, what are you saying?"
"I have evidence," she interrupted, her tone shaking but fierce. "Don't lie to me."
He tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled away. "How could you do this to me?" she whispered, tears streaking her face. "You were the one person I trusted completely."
"Jiwoo, listen—someone's trying to turn you against me—"
"Then why does the evidence say otherwise?" she cut in again, voice breaking. "Ever since that interrogation, I started doubting you. And now… it all makes sense."
Jungwoo stood there, speechless, watching the person he had vowed to protect walk away.
Without another word, Jiwoo turned and left, the door closing between them like the final beat of a heart breaking.
The next morning, Jiwoo found herself on the rooftop garden of an old building. The city below was quiet, sunlight just beginning to pierce the mist.
She wandered aimlessly until she noticed a woman tending to the plants—tall, calm, and elegant, with kind eyes.
Jiwoo hesitated. "I didn't think anyone else came here."
The woman smiled faintly. "I could say the same."
After a moment, Jiwoo offered, "I'm Jiwoo."
The woman looked up. "Min Seo-yeon." She paused, watching Jiwoo closely. "I knew your father."
Jiwoo's heart stuttered. "You… knew him?"
Dr. Min nodded slowly. "We worked together on Project Crimson. There's much you need to understand about what really happened."
She reached into her coat and handed Jiwoo a small, encrypted device—its surface gleaming faintly in the light.
"This contains the truth," Dr. Min said. "About your father. About everything. But be warned—once you see what's inside, there's no turning back."
Jiwoo stared at it, her reflection distorted in its metallic surface. The wind tugged at her hair as she clenched her jaw, eyes burning with resolve.
"I've already lost everything," she whispered. "I'm not afraid of the truth anymore."
And with that, she took the device—her fingers trembling, her heart steady.
The sun rose behind her, casting her in gold as the chapter closed.