The soft rays of dawn filtered through Micha's window, gently nudging her awake. She stretched languidly, savoring the stillness of the early morning. Determined to make the most of her day, she rose and headed for the bathroom. The cool water from the shower washed over her, refreshing her mind and energizing her spirit. Afterward, she slipped into her neatly pressed office attire—a tailored blouse paired with a pencil skirt that exuded professionalism yet allowed her to move with ease.
In the kitchen, Micha set about preparing her breakfast. The sizzle of eggs in the pan and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, adding a comforting rhythm to her routine. She carefully packed her lunch—a simple yet satisfying meal she had prepared the night before—ensuring everything was neatly arranged in her bag.
Before stepping out of the house, she took a moment to glance in the mirror, smoothing down a stray hair and smiling at her reflection. "Today will be productive," she whispered, her voice filled with determination.
The crisp morning air greeted her as she stepped outside, her heels clicking softly on the pavement as she made her way to the office. The streets were bustling with life—commuters rushing to catch their buses, street vendors setting up their stalls, and the gentle hum of the city awakening.
When Micha arrived at the office, she felt the usual buzz of energy surrounding her. Employees exchanged greetings, the faint sound of keyboards clicking filled the air, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the halls. She walked confidently to her workstation, ready to dive into the tasks of the day.
But as Micha rounded the corner to her place, her steps faltered. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched in her throat. The sight before her was utterly unexpected.
Her desk—usually pristine and neatly organized—was in complete disarray. Papers were strewn across the surface, some fluttering to the floor as if they had been hastily tossed aside. A vase of flowers she'd placed there only yesterday lay shattered, its once-vibrant petals scattered amidst shards of glass. Her chair was overturned, and her computer monitor was tilted at an odd angle.
"What… happened here?" Micha whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. A mix of confusion, shock, and dread coursed through her veins.
She stepped closer, carefully avoiding the broken vase, and noticed something even more unsettling—a note taped to the side of her monitor. The handwriting was bold and jagged, the ink slightly smudged, as if written in haste.
The note read: "Be careful, Micha. Things are not always as they seem."
Her pulse quickened as she read the ominous words. Who could have written this? And why? Micha's mind raced with possibilities, each one more troubling than the last. She looked around, scanning the faces of her colleagues, searching for any sign of someone who might know what was going on. But everyone seemed absorbed in their own work, oblivious to the chaos at her desk.
Taking a deep breath, Micha straightened her shoulders, willing herself to remain calm. She reached for the note, her hands trembling slightly, and carefully folded it before tucking it into her bag. She couldn't let this derail her day—not yet.
But deep down, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest, a nagging sense that this was only the beginning of something far more significant. Micha knew she needed answers, and she was determined to uncover the truth behind the cryptic warning and the disarray at her desk. For now, though, she pushed the thoughts aside, plastered on a determined smile, and began tidying up her workstation, ready to face whatever the day might bring.
Micha sat at her desk, meticulously arranging the chaos left behind. Her fingers worked swiftly, stacking the scattered papers into neat piles, salvaging what she could from the wreckage. Though her exterior seemed calm, an undeniable storm brewed within her. The shattered vase and the cryptic note replayed in her mind like a broken record. Her heart, though steady, was fueled by determination and simmering anger.
Once everything was back in its proper place, Micha took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing with resolve. She couldn't let this incident slide—it wasn't just about the mess; it was the deliberate intrusion into her space, the audacity of whoever had done this. She would get to the bottom of it, no matter what.
As the office hours came to a close, Micha packed her belongings with an almost mechanical precision. She strode out of the building, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floors, echoing her growing frustration. The weight of the note in her bag was like a constant reminder, its cryptic message seared into her mind.
Once she was outside, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. Her fingers hovered for a moment before pressing the number of the CEO of the company—a man known for his strictness but also his sense of justice. Micha's jaw tightened as the phone began to ring.
The line clicked, and a deep voice answered, "Hello, Micha. Is there something you need?"
"Yes, there is," Micha replied, her voice firm and unwavering. "I need to report an incident that happened today, and I expect immediate action."
There was a brief pause on the other end, the CEO likely caught off guard by her tone. "What incident are you referring to?"
"Someone tampered with my workstation," Micha explained, her voice laced with controlled anger. "They left my desk in complete disarray, shattered a vase, and left behind a note—an unsettling one at that."
The CEO's tone shifted, becoming serious. "A note? What did it say?"
"It said, 'Be careful, Micha. Things are not always as they seem.'" Micha recited the words with a sharp edge, her grip tightening on the phone. "I don't know who wrote it or why, but this is unacceptable. I want you to investigate this immediately. Review the security footage, question whoever you need to, and find out who did this."
The CEO hesitated for a moment before responding, "I understand your concern, Micha. I'll have the security team start looking into it right away."
"Good," Micha said, her tone commanding. "I trust you'll handle this with the seriousness it deserves. I won't tolerate my personal space being violated like this. Keep me updated on any developments."
"I will," the CEO assured her. "And Micha—stay cautious. Whoever did this seems to be targeting you for a reason."
"I'm always cautious," Micha replied curtly. "But thank you for the advice."
With that, she ended the call and let out a frustrated sigh. The cool evening air did little to soothe her heated emotions. She made her way home, her mind racing with thoughts of who could have done such a thing and why.
As she entered her house, Micha locked the door behind her, the click of the lock providing a small sense of security. She dropped her bag on the table and leaned against the counter, running a hand through her hair.
The day had been exhausting, but she wasn't one to back down. Whoever thought they could intimidate her had underestimated her resolve. Micha knew she was walking into a storm, but she was ready to face it head-on. For now, though, she decided to focus on the next day, hoping it would bring her closer to the truth.
Micha barely had time to breathe after the whirlwind of events at work when her phone suddenly buzzed. The familiar ringtone pierced the stillness of her home, drawing her attention. She grabbed her phone from the counter and saw the name "Mom" flashing on the screen. Her chest tightened momentarily, but as soon as she answered, her mother's warm voice filled the line.
"Hello, sweetheart!" her mom's cheerful tone was a stark contrast to Micha's earlier mood. "We have some news. We're all coming home today—your dad, your brother, your grandparents, and me. It's been so long since we were all together, and we've missed you terribly."
Micha's heart swelled with a mix of surprise and joy. "You're all coming? Really?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief and excitement.
"Yes, darling," her mom continued, "we thought it was about time. There's no place like home, after all."
After a few more exchanged words, Micha ended the call, her emotions swinging between relief and anticipation. For a moment, she stood in silence, clutching her phone tightly. Then, reality hit her—her entire family was coming home. The house needed to be perfect, and she had to prepare their favorite meals.
Without wasting another second, Micha went to her room and changed into comfortable clothes, her mind already racing through a mental checklist of tasks. She rolled up her sleeves, tying her hair back into a messy bun, and headed straight to the kitchen with determination etched on her face.
As she opened the fridge and pantry, her commanding tone kicked in—though she was speaking to herself, her words were firm and deliberate. "Alright, Micha, focus. Mom loves chicken stew, Dad prefers roast lamb, Grandma can't go without her pumpkin soup, and Grandpa needs his favorite apple pie. Let's do this."
She moved with purpose, pulling out ingredients, setting them on the counter, and grabbing pots and pans. The kitchen quickly became a flurry of activity, the soft hum of the refrigerator blending with the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the clattering of utensils.
Her thoughts kept drifting back to the cryptic note at work, her mind still piecing together the puzzle. But she shook her head, bringing herself back to the moment. "Not now," she muttered, stirring a pot of broth. "Tonight, it's about family."
As the evening wore on, the house began to fill with the comforting aroma of home-cooked meals. Micha's focus was unwavering, her hands moving skillfully as she juggled multiple dishes at once. She occasionally glanced at the clock, ensuring everything would be ready before her family arrived.
Despite the physical and emotional exhaustion of the day, Micha felt a sense of calm in the kitchen. Cooking had always been her way of finding peace, and tonight was no different. The thought of seeing her family after such a long time fueled her, pushing aside her earlier frustration and worry.
By the time the last dish was complete, the table was a masterpiece of culinary delight. Micha stepped back, wiping her hands on a towel, a small smile playing on her lips. She felt a surge of pride knowing she had prepared a feast that would bring her family together.
Now, all that was left was to wait for them to arrive. Micha took a moment to sit down, her thoughts drifting to So Hyung. She wondered what he'd think of this side of her—the side that thrived in chaos yet found joy in the simplest acts of love. The sound of the clock ticking reminded her of the day's many events, but for now, she allowed herself to relax, knowing that today would bring its own stories to unfold.