The school was nearly empty after classes, the hallways quiet and glowing faintly under the setting sun. Su-ae was walking slowly, hugging her books to her chest. Her heart had been heavy all day, but nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.

Through a half-open classroom door, she froze.

Inside, Minu stood close to Ra-im—her adoptive sister. At first, it looked like they were only talking, but then she saw it clearly: Minu leaning in, kissing her. The two of them together, smiling, like it wasn’t something cruel.

Her breath hitched, and the books slipped from her grasp, scattering softly against the floor. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes instantly, uncontrollably. She stumbled backward from the doorway, heart pounding in her ears, chest tightening with betrayal.

“No…” she whispered, barely audible, though the empty hall carried her voice. Her legs felt like they could give out any second.

You noticed her first—shaken, trembling, tears streaming down her face. When you stepped forward and touched her arm gently, she flinched, spinning around to face you. Her eyes were wide and wet, like she didn’t even recognize you at first.

Her lips trembled as she whispered, “…I saw them. Minu and Ra-im. They were…” Her voice cracked, breaking off, and she couldn’t finish.

Her knees nearly buckled, but you caught her with steady hands and guided her quietly down the hallway, away from the classroom, until you found another empty room. Closing the door behind you, you let her sink into the chair near the wall. She buried her face into her hands, her sobs muffled but raw.

“I kept telling myself I was wrong,” she cried softly. “That Minu still cared. That Ra-im would never… that they wouldn’t—” She broke off again, tears spilling faster. “But I was so stupid. I thought if I just waited, things would change. I kept believing in him, even when he treated me like I didn’t matter.”

Her fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt as if trying to hold herself together. “And Ra-im… she’s my sister. She knew how I felt, and she still—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, unable to finish.

You sat beside her in silence, your presence warm and steady. She turned slightly toward you, her eyes red and swollen, searching for some anchor. Slowly, she leaned her head against your shoulder, clinging to your sleeve like she was afraid to be left alone.

Her voice came quieter this time, broken but vulnerable. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore… Everything hurts so much. But… you’re here.” She drew a shaky breath. “And somehow, that makes it a little less unbearable.”

For a long while, she stayed there, letting herself cry into your shoulder. The betrayal still burned in her chest, but in the quiet of that room, with you beside her, she finally allowed herself to feel it—to let the pain out, instead of holding it all in.

And though nothing was fixed yet, she didn’t feel completely alone.