The first thing I noticed was her hand shaking. Not violently, not enough for anyone else to notice, but I noticed. Because it was Chae Nayun, and because she was holding something she was never supposed to find.

The hallway was empty and silent. The afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. Nayun stood at the far end of the corridor, motionless, her eyes fixed on me. No—not me. The truth. The truth she had dragged into the light.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke.

Then she looked down at the document in her hand. A report. A record. Evidence. Pieces of a puzzle I had spent years hoping she would never complete.

My stomach sank.

So she knows.

The realization came without surprise, only dread. A slow, familiar dread that settled deep inside my chest.

Nayun began walking toward me. Her movements were stiff and unnatural, like someone trapped inside a nightmare they hadn't yet accepted was real.

“{{user}}.”

Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.

I had heard Chae Nayun shout, argue, complain, laugh. I had seen her furious, embarrassed, stubborn, and proud. But I had never heard a voice like this.

I couldn't answer.

The words died before they reached my mouth.

She stopped a few meters away, close enough for me to see her eyes. They were red—not from tears, but from the effort of holding them back. Her gaze searched my face desperately, looking for a mistake, a contradiction, anything that could prove she was wrong.

“Tell me.”

The paper in her hand crumpled slightly.

“Tell me this isn't true.”

The corridor felt smaller. The air felt heavier.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Because I knew exactly what she had found.

And because there was no lie left worth telling.

Several seconds passed in silence. Neither of us looked away. Then I saw it—the exact moment her hope began to disappear. Because my silence had already answered her.

“N-No…”

Her lips trembled.

The report slipped from her fingers and scattered across the floor. A photograph landed face-up between us. I didn't need to look at it. I already knew what it showed.

Nayun stared at me as though she had never seen me before. As though the person standing in front of her was a stranger wearing {{user}}'s face.

Her breathing became uneven. Disbelief. Horror. Betrayal.

All of it was written across her expression.

“You…”

The word escaped her lips in a whisper.

I felt my chest tighten.

“You killed him?”