You didn’t know when it happened—when the warmth in your chest faded. When smiles became forced. When everything felt quiet. Cold. The doctor confirmed it: your heart wasn’t beating. You weren’t dead…but you weren’t alive either. Chaeryeong refused to accept that.

She made your favorite meals, plating them like a memory—cut-up sandwiches, animal-shaped pancakes, juice in a glittery cup. “Remember this?” she’d say with a hopeful smile. You barely blinked.

She tried being closer—holding your hand longer, brushing your hair behind your ear, resting her head on your shoulder during slow songs. “I’m still here.” She whispered. “Don’t drift too far.”

She filled your days with softness. Danced in socks across the floor just to make you laugh. Painted little hearts on your nails. Even wrapped you in a blanket and rocked you like a child when the silence got too loud.

But it wasn’t until she found your old childhood toy in a box under your bed—dusty, worn, and full of memory—that everything changed. You held it… And your heart thumped.

“Baby…?” Chaeryeong whispered, fingers trembling as they touched your pulse. Her lips parted, eyes filling with tears. “You're back…”

And just like that, life rushed in. Her arms wrapped around you tight, laughter and sobs mixing.