"I wish I could be as pretty as her." The sentence rang through Kim Hana's mind like a broken record, refusing to let go. Even as the clock passed midnight, the thought lingered, mocking her. She sat at her desk, staring blankly at the chaotic pile of books surrounding her. But tonight, her attention was elsewhere—on a small notebook. Its pages were filled with paragraphs, numbers, and dates, memories that had clung to her ever since she returned to this town three weeks ago.
It was almost amusing, the way the past held her captive. No matter how hard she tried to sever ties with it, the memories persisted, like shadows that wouldn't fade. With a heavy sigh, Hana blinked, trying to stay awake. Her eyelids fluttered before exhaustion finally took over, and her head dropped onto her forearm.
In the haze of half-sleep, something caught her eye—a fox mask sitting on the windowsill. Her heart skipped a beat. The mask had been there the night before, but she distinctly remembered it disappearing the next day. Confusion jolted her awake as she rubbed her eyes and blinked again. The mask was still there.
Yawning, Hana stood, the strange, smooth surface of the mask drawing her closer. Her fingers trailed over its texture, a cold shiver running down her spine. Hadn't it vanished? A surge of unease bubbled up within her. Maybe this house was haunted, she thought with a shiver.
Gripping the mask tighter, Hana left her room, her steps tentative as the lights flickered ominously overhead. The flickering bulbs were just another thing to ask Ryo to fix. With her nerves on edge, she hurried to the small kitchen adjacent to her room, where she shoved the mask inside a cabinet, locking it with the key dangling nearby. It was true, she was scared of the mask, but her sister's son, Yuto, loved pulling pranks. This had to be one of his tricks.
Relieved, Hana let out a breath and returned to her room, finally allowing herself to fall into a deep sleep.
The next morning, laughter echoed from the kitchen, rousing Hana from her dreams. Still groggy, she pulled herself out of bed, clad in her pajamas, and wandered past a mirror. She stopped, staring at her reflection. Her expression was blank, her hair a disheveled mess. 'Why do I feel like I'm not enough?' She thought about the woman from her dreams—the one who always looked so perfect, so put together.
"This is childish," she muttered under her breath. Why should it matter? And yet, her hand instinctively rose to fix her hair as she headed toward the kitchen.
As she entered, she saw Jenna and Hans sitting at the table, laughing at something between them. Jenna, her older sister, was always the cheerful one, while Hans, their childhood friend, had a calmness about him that had drawn Hana in once, years ago.
When they noticed Hana, Jenna giggled and handed her a jar of strawberry jam.
"Mom was really serious about the name," Jenna said, her eyebrow raised in amusement. Hana glanced down at the jar, reading the bold label: 'Jenna Jam '
Hana chuckled softly then added "I think it's cute," , offering a half-smile. But as he turned to Hana .
That that moment Hana felt her heart speed up under his gaze. He had always had a way of making her nervous.
"Sleep well?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
Hana froze, embarrassment surging through her. She didn't answer, instead breaking eye contact and rushing out of the kitchen, her face flushed. Behind her, Hans coughed awkwardly, while Jenna sighed knowingly.
"Give her some time," Jenna said softly to Hans. She understood the tension between them, the unresolved feelings from years past. It wasn't easy for any of them, especially after what Hana had been through.
Special the fact that he hidden the truth from her or try to.
ran a hand through his hair, his expression somber. "I just… I don't want to get my hopes up again."
Jenna placed a hand on his shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. "Time heals wounds, Hans."
Hana had once been engaged to Hans. Their love had been deep, solidified after high school. But everything changed the day she was kidnapped. She had disappeared for a year and a half, and when she returned, their father had already passed away from a heart attack. The grief that followed had consumed their lives.
In her room, Hana collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. 'Why am I acting like this?' Her heart was racing, and her face still felt hot from the embarrassment.
"Get it together!" she muttered, frustrated with herself. But before she could dwell on it any longer, her mother called from downstairs, instructing her to help Jenna sell their homemade jams at the Sunday market.
Hana's first instinct was to say no. After all, the memories swirling in her mind were enough to leave her exhausted. She longed to call 'Yuna ', her psychiatric, and escape into their familiar conversations. But instead, she hesitated, blurting out, "Won't you feel lonely, Mother?"
Her mother's response was swift and sharp. "Huh? I'd rather be alone than deal with you… you useless thing."
The words hit Hana like a punch to the gut. 'Am I even her daughter?'she thought, feeling the sting of rejection wash over her.
Feeling dejected, Hana opened her closet, her hand brushing against a cute pink dress. But the memory of the woman from her dreams stopped her. She couldn't wear something like that. Instead, she opted for a simple white blouse and jeans, pulling her hair into a low ponytail.
As she glanced at herself in the mirror, She couldn't let the past consume her. She had to move forward.
Hana descended the stairs, her steps steady as she took a box of jams from Jenna and helped load them into the trunk of the car. They rode together to the Sunday market, Jenna chattering away while Hans remained silent, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Back at the house, their mother, 'Misaki', sat in the living room, holding a framed photo of her late husband. A sad smile crept across her face as she looked at the man in the picture. He had always adored Hana, favoring his younger daughter. When she had been kidnapped, he had led the entire town in a frantic search, refusing to rest until she was found. But after days of searching, the police chief had come to their home with a grim expression, apologizing for his failure.
No one could forget the moment Misaki's husband had grabbed the chief by the collar, tears streaming down his face as he begged for his daughter's safe return. The chief's silence had said it all, followed by the chilling words that sealed the family's fate: "Your daughter was kidnapped… by the mafia."