₩780,000.
That was all Donghee had managed to scrape together after working three part-time jobs and barely catching any sleep all month. Three jobs, and this was it?
The reason was predictable. Debt.
The massive sum of money she had never even laid eyes on came from gambling debts her brother owed to loan sharks—her brother, who hadn’t contacted her in years.
Like bloodhounds, the loan sharks tracked her down and threw that monstrous debt on her shoulders like it was some kind of gift—all because they were technically family on paper. To this day, she shuddered whenever she remembered the first time they barged into her dingy semi-basement studio.
Ha Donghyuk, that bastard. Even beating him to death wouldn’t be enough.
Donghee hurled curses that wouldn’t even reach him and prayed for his downfall.
₩5 million had ballooned into ₩50 million before she could even blink.
She’d work herself half to death to make a monthly payment, only to see the debt grow even more, like some grotesque offspring sprouting new limbs. It was like pouring water into a bottomless pot, but not paying wasn’t an option either—the fear of being ripped apart and sold piece by piece never left her.
Sometimes, she even wondered if selling a kidney wouldn’t be so bad. But every time she pictured herself on an operating table, she got the ominous feeling that she’d never make it back alive.
Recalling the glint of greed in those men’s eyes, she shook her head.
Even in a miserable life like this, she didn’t want to die that way.
Today was payday, but, as always, the money vanished from her account almost as soon as it arrived—leaving behind nothing but a transaction log.
“Like a damn guestbook. Ugh!”
Her head, resting against the wall, felt impossibly heavy. Not like she had anything in it to weigh it down.
“Would be nice if the world just up and ended.”
If she could go back in time, she’d erase the days when she laughed and said she was happy to have a mom and a brother.
“Idiot. Dumbass.”
The day she came back from a school trip, her stepmother had run off with both the lease deposit and her father’s life insurance—taking her good-for-nothing brother with her.
All she had left were the clothes on her back, some laundry in her backpack, and a pair of handmade chocolate pies she had bought for her mom and brother.
“Total moron.”
She had checked her bag countless times on the bus to make sure the pies weren’t melting.
She couldn’t afford three, so she’d only bought two—for her mom and brother.
In the end, the chocolate pies she bought in Gyeongju became the last thing she ever ate in that house.
After that, she never touched another chocolate pie.
She didn’t have the courage to die, but quitting everything felt like it would be just as fatal. The harder she tried to live, the more the leash around her neck tightened.
There was no escape.
“Am I just supposed to live like this until I die?”
₩47.8 million.
She had paid over ₩2 million a month without fail, and her debt had only shrunk by ₩2.2 million.
“F*ck this. I seriously can’t do this anymore.”
Donghee cursed—a curse that barely felt like one—and shut her eyes tightly. Tears streamed down her face, unbidden.
If the world really ended right now, that’d be great.
She didn’t even have the energy to wipe her tears. She collapsed onto her worn-out mattress, staring blankly at the stained ceiling wallpaper.
It’s probably gonna leak again when it rains. They said the rainy season starts next week.
Her rent was so low that she didn’t dare nag the landlord to fix anything. She was too scared he’d just tell her to pack up and leave.
If it leaks, I’ll just stick a bowl under it, whatever.
A damp room like this was still better than sleeping on the streets.
One grimy thought followed another, and the more she sank into them, the deeper her exhausted body sank into the mattress.
She reached over her head, blindly fumbling for the phone she’d tossed aside.
Her four-year-old phone took forever to charge and died in half a day. But still, it was better than nothing—it faithfully told her the time: 2:00 a.m.
She had to be at her convenience store job by 5.
“Three hours. Just three hours of sleep.”
She crawled over her mattress like a slug, shoved herself into her crumpled blanket, and closed her eyes. Her bones felt like they were made of iron.
Every time she moved, the springs creaked with a twang.
Her eyelids fluttered closed on their own. Despite it all, she comforted herself.
At least I still have a roof over my head.
Donghee drifted off to sleep, half-proud of having secured even this basement studio with no money.
“Milady, please wake up.”
A gentle, polite voice called out from somewhere.
Did she fall asleep with the TV on?
She opened her eyes with a pang of guilt—how could she waste electricity in her situation?
But what she saw wasn’t what she expected.
For a few seconds, Donghee just blinked in confusion.
Am I still dreaming? Why is it so bright?
Her semi-basement had always been dark, day or night, but now it was as bright as midday.
Did I leave the light on too?
She frowned and sat up—only to realize the texture of the blanket under her hand was unfamiliar.
Where was she?
Her first panicked thought was that loan sharks had broken in while she was sleeping and kidnapped her.
Eyes wide, she scanned the unfamiliar furniture, the walls, the ceiling—then finally met the gaze of a concerned-looking woman.
“AAAAAAAH!”
“EEK!”
The woman screamed back, hands trembling.
Donghee’s screams continued.
She looked around for a weapon, but everything in sight was soft and plush—not a single blunt object in sight.
“Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?”
The woman who had screamed along with her now asked, visibly worried.
Only then did Donghee realize the woman was a foreigner.
Did they put me on a deep-sea fishing vessel or something?
At least they hadn’t gutted her right away, but still—shipping her off on a boat? Wasn’t that too much?
Wait. Why do I understand her?
Also… this wasn’t a boat.
Her heart was pounding, and she started breathing faster. She curled up on the bed like a frightened cat, ready to strike at any moment.
“Milady, are you really all right?”
“M-Me?”
“Yes. Are you feeling ill?”
“I’m not sick… but… who are you?”
“Pardon?”
Now the woman looked just as stunned.
Leaving the woman behind—who kept calling her “milady”—Donghee had been standing in front of a mirror for an hour now.
The girl in the mirror was not the 31-year-old Ha Donghee. She looked like a teenager—maybe in her late teens at best.
Her large, chocolate-colored eyes sparkled like glass beads, and her matching brown hair flowed in gentle waves. Her milky, porcelain skin didn’t have a single blemish, and her soft, smooth lips were red and glossy like cherries.
“This is supposed to be me?”
Still in disbelief, Donghee pressed her nose to the mirror and touched her face.
The girl in the mirror copied her, touching her face and mouthing her words—like a doll come to life.
Donghee had never once been called pretty.
Just an average face. A body that lacked curves where they were supposed to be.
She’d been so forgettable that even at school reunions, most people didn’t recognize her.
The most common thing she heard was, “You were in our class?”
And now this was her?
“This is way too pretty.”
“Yes, milady, you’re very beautiful. Now please get ready to head out!”
The sharp-looking woman had introduced herself as a nanny. Or rather, she had been her nanny.
When Donghee didn’t recognize her and asked who she was, the nanny had teared up—only to get annoyed when Donghee stayed oddly calm. She assumed it was some kind of prank and now wore a deeply offended expression.
But I’m not joking… Is this a dream?
Donghee pinched her soft cheek.
Didn’t hurt.
“Pinching yourself like that won’t work.”
The nanny’s grumble came from beside her.
“Then will you pinch me instead?”
If this was a dream, she needed to wake up fast. Getting fired from her part-time job would be a disaster.
Donghee turned her cheek toward the nanny, eyes shut in anticipation.
“No complaining afterward, okay?”
“Yes, yes, just hurry. I’ll be late for work.”
“Here I go!”
“What are you even talking about… Well, if you insist—”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than pain exploded across Donghee’s cheek. The nanny didn’t hold back.
“AAAAAAAAAGH!”
Donghee rose up on her toes and stomped her foot, screaming like a freshly caught fish.
Clutching her cheek, she glared with tear-filled eyes.
“That hurt!”
“You said no complaining! Now come on! You need to eat! And you must inspect the estate today! If not, Viscount Patrasche might take it from us for real!”
The nanny gently stroked Donghee’s reddened cheek.
“Patrasche? Isn’t that a dog?”
The familiar name almost made her laugh as she rubbed her aching face.
Sighing, the nanny dipped a towel in warm water and began to gently wipe her face. Donghee flinched away, afraid of being pinched again, but the nanny caught her by the nape and made her sit still.
She had strong hands, no doubt about that.
“You can’t just go around calling him a dog! What if someone hears you?”
