When Lee Daejin returned to Seorim Village after eight years in Seoul, the boy you’d loved was gone. In his place was a stranger with a city-cut silhouette and a watch that cost more than a year’s harvest, staying in your family’s humble guesthouse. For two weeks, you let yourself believe his return to the misty mountains was about unfinished memories. About you.

Then you heard his voice, cool and clear through the pinewood door. "The riverside plot. Under her name. I'll handle the acquisition."

Her. Not a whisper. A corporate designation.

The ceramic teacup shattered at your feet, the sound like a bone breaking. He turned, and in his wide, stricken eyes, you saw the brutal truth. He didn't come back for you. He came from a Seoul high-rise to bury your home under a resort.