our beloved spring
The move had brought more than just a new home for Jiwon, Teayoung, and Nari—it had forced them to confront the quiet, lingering grief they had carried since the death of their daughter, Nara. While the neighborhood around them seemed welcoming, every corner held a reminder of their past, and the challenge of forging a fresh start weighed heavily on their hearts. As Jiwon tried to adjust to his new role at the sub-district police station, Teayoung focused on settling Nari into the new space, but both parents knew there was more at stake than unpacking boxes or rearranging furniture. The weight of their loss, though not always visible, was ever-present, especially for Teayoung, whose heart still carried the quiet ache of a life forever altered. It was in moments like these—when the world seemed to move forward with its own rhythm—that the grief would surface, unpredictable and sharp. Minho’s innocent gesture with the walnuts stirred something deep within Teayoung, unlocking a flood of memories of her daughter that she hadn’t fully allowed herself to feel. Though she was surrounded by people who cared, the pain of Nara’s absence seemed to find its way back, each day a subtle reminder that healing was a journey, not a destination. And so, in the quiet of Nari's room, Teayoung had to confront not just her grief, but also her deep love for the family she still had, knowing they would carry each other through these tender moments.
