Ji-Woo stayed outside with Ji-Bok until her crying finally quieted into uneven breathing.
By the time she pushed herself up from the gate, her eyes were swollen and her head hurt from holding too much in at once.
Ji-Bok looked at her carefully.
"You want me to come in?" he asked.
Ji-Woo shook her head immediately.
"No."
Her voice was weak.
"I'll be fine."
Ji-Bok clearly didn't believe that.
But after a moment, he nodded anyway.
"Text me if something happens."
Ji-Woo gave a faint nod and finally pushed the gate open.
The house lights were still on.
Of course they were.
The moment she stepped inside, the atmosphere changed immediately.
Warm on the outside.
Cold underneath.
And sitting in the living room—
Seo-Yeon.
One leg crossed over the other, phone in hand, expression already twisted with interest the second she saw Ji-Woo's face.
"Well," she said slowly. "You look terrible."
Ji-Woo didn't answer.
She just started walking past her.
But Seo-Yeon stood up.
"Where have you been?"
Ji-Woo stopped near the stairs.
"…Out."
Seo-Yeon laughed softly.
"That's not an answer."
Still no response.
Seo-Yeon's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then she smiled.
The kind that never meant anything good.
"You know," she said casually, "Madam's getting tired of you."
Ji-Woo's fingers tightened slightly at her side.
Seo-Yeon noticed.
And kept going.
"She'll abandon you eventually too."
Silence.
Then Seo-Yeon tilted her head.
"Just like she did your sister."
That made Ji-Woo finally look at her properly.
Seo-Yeon's smile widened slightly at the reaction.
"Oh," she said mockingly. "Did that hurt?"
Ji-Woo's voice came out quieter than intended.
"Stop talking."
But Seo-Yeon walked closer instead.
"No, really," she continued. "Do you actually think she loves either of you?"
Ji-Woo's chest tightened immediately.
"She hated Ji-Soo the most," Seo-Yeon said bluntly. "That's why she got rid of her first."
Ji-Woo froze.
The words hit too perfectly against everything already breaking inside her.
Seo-Yeon folded her arms.
"You and your sister were both disappointments to her," she added coldly. "Neither of you turned out perfect enough."
Ji-Woo looked away quickly.
Because suddenly breathing felt harder again.
Seo-Yeon saw it happening.
Saw the damage settling in.
And smiled faintly.
"You should've seen yourself just now," she murmured. "You looked scared."
Ji-Woo swallowed hard.
Her eyes burned again immediately, exhaustion cracking through the fragile control she had left.
"Why are you saying this to me…" she whispered.
Seo-Yeon shrugged carelessly.
"Because someone should tell you the truth."
A pause.
Then quieter—
"You're temporary here."
That one hurt the most.
Because somewhere deep down, Ji-Woo already feared it.
Seo-Yeon stepped closer one last time.
"When she gets tired of pretending you matter," she said softly, "you'll disappear too."
Ji-Woo's breathing became uneven again.
Her hand instinctively pressed lightly against her chest.
Not dramatic.
Just trying to steady herself.
Seo-Yeon noticed that too.
And finally stepped back with satisfaction.
"Goodnight," she said lightly.
Then she walked away toward the kitchen like she hadn't just torn open every wound Ji-Woo was trying to hold closed.
Ji-Woo stayed standing there alone.
Silent.
The house suddenly felt too big.
Too cold.
Her vision blurred slightly as she looked toward the stairs.
And for the first time that night—
she genuinely wondered if everyone would eventually leave her once they saw the truth.
Ji-Woo stood in the hallway long after Seo-Yeon disappeared.
Her chest still hurt from everything she had heard.
But now—
it wasn't just sadness anymore.
It was anger.
Hot.
Shaking.
Painful.
Because deep down, one thought kept repeating itself.
What if it's true?
Ji-Woo wiped at her face quickly and turned toward the stairs.
Fast this time.
Not thinking anymore.
Just moving.
She reached Mrs. Kim's room and pushed the door open harder than intended.
Mrs. Kim looked up immediately from where she sat reading.
Her expression sharpened.
"What is wrong with you?" she asked coldly.
Ji-Woo's breathing was uneven already.
"Did you hate Ji-Soo?"
The question came out instantly.
No greeting.
No hesitation.
Mrs. Kim froze slightly.
Only for a second.
Then her face hardened again.
"Who told you that?"
"Answer me."
Ji-Woo's voice cracked louder this time.
Mrs. Kim slowly closed the book in her lap.
"Lower your voice."
"No!" Ji-Woo shouted suddenly. "Tell me the truth for once!"
The room fell silent.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Mrs. Kim stood up slowly.
Her eyes narrowed slightly at Ji-Woo's shaking figure.
Then quietly—
"Yes."
Ji-Woo stopped breathing for a second.
Mrs. Kim looked directly at her now.
"I never liked Ji-Soo."
The words landed brutally.
Ji-Woo stared at her.
Like maybe she misheard.
But Mrs. Kim kept going.
"She was difficult from the beginning," she said flatly. "Too loud. Too stubborn. Never calm."
Ji-Woo's eyes watered immediately.
Mrs. Kim's voice stayed controlled.
"She played in mud like some street child. Ran around carelessly. Talked too much. Never sat still. Never behaved properly."
Each sentence felt like something tearing open.
"She embarrassed me constantly."
Ji-Woo's lips trembled.
Mrs. Kim looked at her almost distantly now.
"But Ji-Woo…" she continued softly, "Ji-Woo was different."
Ji-Woo's breath caught painfully.
"She was calm. Gentle. Elegant." Mrs. Kim's eyes softened—but not toward her. Toward the memory. "People admired her immediately."
Ji-Soo let out a broken laugh through tears.
Admired.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
"They look the same," Ji-Soo whispered shakily. "We have the same face… the same body… the same eyes…"
Her voice cracked harder.
"We're twins."
Mrs. Kim's expression didn't change.
"But Ji-Woo was better," she said.
Silence.
Then quieter.
"She always was."
That broke something completely.
Ji-Soo physically stepped back like she'd been hit.
A sound left her throat—but barely.
Small.
Destroyed.
Tears rolled down fast now.
Not controlled anymore.
Then suddenly—
she laughed again.
Weak.
Broken.
"Now I know why Dad left," she whispered.
Mrs. Kim's expression shifted slightly.
But Ji-Soo kept going.
"You compare your own children like this?" she asked, crying openly now. "Isn't a mother supposed to love both her children?"
Mrs. Kim looked away briefly.
Then said the worst thing yet.
"Only one was enough for me."
Ji-Soo stared at her in disbelief.
Like even after everything, that still hurt the most.
Then anger finally crashed through the pain.
"You know what?" she said, voice shaking violently. "I hate you."
Mrs. Kim looked back at her sharply.
Ji-Soo cried harder now, words stumbling out between breaths.
"I really hate you."
Years of hurt poured out at once.
"You ruined both me and my sister's lives!"
Her voice echoed through the room.
"You abandoned me when I was five!"
Mrs. Kim's face tightened.
Ji-Soo pointed at her with trembling hands.
"I never called you Mom after that," she cried. "And I never will again!"
Her breathing broke completely now.
"Ever again."
The room went silent.
Mrs. Kim stood frozen.
Not cold anymore.
Not composed.
Because for the first time in years—
she could see it clearly.
Not the "difficult child."
Not the loud little girl she rejected.
But the damage she created standing right in front of her.
Crying.
Shaking.
Destroyed.
Ji-Soo wiped at her tears angrily, refusing to stay there another second.
Then she turned and walked out of the room.
Fast.
Before she completely fell apart in front of her.
And behind her—
Mrs. Kim remained standing alone in the silence,
while the daughter she failed finally stopped trying to earn her love.