The storage room door slams shut, cutting off the chaos outside.

Inside, it’s cramped and dim. Shelves, scattered equipment, too many people and not enough air. Everyone’s breathing hard, trying to stay quiet.

Cheong-san is still gripping your hand. You guide him down toward the corner, easing him to sit, but his movements are delayed — like his body hasn’t caught up to what just happened.

Dae-su steps closer, voice low, shaken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realise. I didn’t know she was your mom.”

Cheong-san doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t even look at him.

His hand slips from yours as his knees give out. He slides down the shelf slowly, back hitting the metal, until he’s sitting on the floor. For a moment, he just stays there — frozen.

Then his shoulders start to shake.

He bends forward, one hand coming up to his face, breath breaking apart as quiet sobs spill out. There’s no sound from anyone else. The room goes completely still, like no one dares interrupt what’s happening.

You sit down beside him without a word and take his hand again, holding it tight. He curls inward, forehead dropping, fingers clenching weakly around yours as he cries.

No one speaks.

The apology hangs in the air, unanswered. The room stays silent.