Ha-rin's phone had been off for hours.
Not silent.Not ignored.
Completely off.
"…If it's off, it doesn't exist," she said earlier, placing it face down."I don't want to see anything right now."
"That is not how existence works," I replied.
"…It is for me."
I didn't argue.
The apartment stayed quiet after that.
Until—
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Sharp.
Unexpected.
Ha-rin looked up immediately.
"…Were you expecting someone?"
"No."
The bell rang again.
More impatient.
"…Don't open it," she said.
"That is not reasonable."
"It could be someone unnecessary."
"That describes most visitors."
She pointed toward the door.
"…Still. Don't."
The bell rang a third time.
I stood.
"…I will check."
"…No—"
Too late.
I opened the door.
Two people stood outside.
Well-dressed. Composed. Travel bags beside them.
They looked at me.
I looked at them.
"…Can I help you?" I asked.
The woman spoke first.
"We're here to see our daughter."
I paused.
"…Who is your daughter?"
"Han Ha-rin."
Silence.
Behind me—
Something fell.
A very clear thud.
I didn't turn.
"…I see," I said.
The man stepped forward slightly.
"The agency gave us this address."
"That is consistent with their behavior."
"…So she's here," the woman said.
"Yes."
Behind me, movement.
Fast.
Chaotic.
"…Tell them I'm not here," Ha-rin whispered urgently.
"That would be inaccurate."
"…Say it anyway!"
"That would be lying."
"…I don't care!"
I stepped aside.
"You may come in."
"…Traitor," she whispered.
They entered.
Their eyes moved immediately—sharp, observant, taking in everything.
Ha-rin was no longer visible.
Which was impressive.
And ineffective.
She was half-hidden behind the sofa.
Poorly.
Very poorly.
"…Ha-rin," her mother called.
No answer.
"…Han Ha-rin."
"…I'm not here," came a muffled voice.
Silence.
Her father looked at me.
"…She says she's not here."
"That is incorrect," I replied.
"…I can hear her."
"Yes."
Her mother walked forward slowly.
Stopped in front of the sofa.
Looked down.
Ha-rin slowly rose.
Like someone caught mid-crime with no explanation prepared.
"…Hi," she said weakly.
Her mother didn't respond.
She looked at her.
Carefully.
From head to toe.
Then again.
Longer.
Then—
"…Why do you look like that."
Ha-rin froze.
"…Like what."
Her mother stepped closer.
Eyes narrowing.
"…Why are you fat."
Silence.
Absolute.
"…WHAT?" Ha-rin snapped.
"I'm asking normally," her mother said. "…You weren't like this before."
"That is NOT normal!"
"I asked clearly."
"That was not clear, that was an attack!"
Her father stepped in, observing calmly.
"…You do look different."
"…YOU TOO?" Ha-rin said, horrified.
"I'm confirming."
"This is not confirmation, this is betrayal!"
Her mother leaned closer.
Then stopped.
Her expression changed.
Instantly.
"…Wait."
Ha-rin went still.
"…No," her mother said.
Her father frowned.
"…What."
"…That's not weight."
Silence dropped again.
Heavy.
Real.
Her father looked again.
Then—
"…Oh."
Ha-rin covered her face.
"…Don't say 'oh' like that."
"I said it quietly."
"That doesn't help!"
Her mother slowly turned toward me.
Very slowly.
"…Explain."
Ha-rin immediately stepped forward.
"…NO."
Her mother didn't look at her.
"…Explain."
"I will," I said.
"…You will not," Ha-rin snapped.
Silence.
For the first time—
I was sweating.
Her father walked past us and sat down.
Calm.
Resigned.
"…This is serious," he said.
"Yes."
"…Very serious."
"Yes."
Ha-rin dropped onto the sofa.
"…My life is over."
"No," I said. "It has changed."
"…STOP SAYING THAT."
Her mother exhaled slowly.
"…We leave for a few months," she said, "…and this happens."
"…You weren't supposed to come back early!"
"…Clearly, we were."
Her father nodded.
"…Good timing."
"This is NOT good timing!"
"…It is accurate timing."
Ha-rin groaned.
"…I'm not explaining everything right now."
Her mother raised an eyebrow.
"…You think you have a choice?"
"…Yes."
Silence.
Then—
Her mother pointed at me.
"…Him."
Ha-rin closed her eyes.
"…Of course."
I nodded.
"…Understood."
The apartment felt completely different now.
Not quiet.
Not controlled.
Just—
Full.