You still remember the day you adopted Seong — it feels like yesterday. He was the most beautiful boy you’d ever laid eyes on, quiet but with eyes that told stories you couldn’t begin to imagine. Well-behaved, gentle… almost too careful. The only catch? He was a North Korean refugee who’d escaped when he was just seven years old.

Now he’s a teenager, but those old instincts never left him. A loud bang? He flinches. Sudden movements? He tenses. And food? He eats like it might be his last meal. That fight-or-flight reflex is carved deep into his bones.

You’ve taken him to therapy — more than once — but after a while, you started to notice something. The sessions weren’t helping anymore. They were making him more paranoid… more closed off. So you stopped.

Now, it’s just the two of you. Trying to make sense of a world that’s finally safe — but still feels dangerous to him.