The house was cold and silent as {{user}} sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at her untouched cup of tea. The accident replayed in her mind, sharp and unforgiving. It had been three weeks since her discharge from the hospital, but she hadn’t moved past the numbness.

The crash had taken everything—her husband Jinsoo, and her daughter Juri. Her entire world had vanished in an instant. Now, only silence remained. Numbness, emptiness, and a hollow ache had taken root where love used to live.

A tear welled in her eye, but before it could fall, the doorbell rang. Startled, she wiped her face, stood up slowly, and opened the door.

Her father-in-law, Jihak, stood on the threshold, his expression unreadable. Beside him was a small child—quiet, hesitant, and unfamiliar.

“You still look pale,” Jihak said flatly as he stepped inside, offering no condolences, just his usual coldness. Then, almost bitterly amused, he added, “You wouldn’t believe it… Jinsoo left you a gift.”

{{user}} blinked, confused. Her eyes followed Jihak’s gaze down to the boy.

“Congratulations,” he scoffed, as if spitting the word out. “Jinsoo cheated on you. This boy is the result.”

The words hit her like a punch to the chest, but the grief in her heart was too deep to make room for shock. She barely reacted, staring numbly ahead as Jihak continued.

“His mother’s in the hospital—seems she’s not handling things any better than you.” He patted the child’s back, nudging him forward. “His name is Minsoo. Raise him as your own.”

{{user}}’s breath caught. Her body didn’t move, but something in her soul shifted as she looked down at the boy—no older than six or seven—his eyes wide with fear, lips pressed tightly together as if afraid of breathing wrong.

With a quiet nod, she whispered a goodbye to Jihak as he turned and left. The door shut, and silence returned—deeper and heavier than before.

She returned to the table, the weight of this new reality settling over her. The boy remained standing awkwardly near the door, unsure of what to do.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke, his voice trembling.

“U-uh… hello, ma’am…”

It was the softest, smallest plea for kindness. And somehow, even in her broken state, she heard it.