Chapter : 01
Has it been 18 years?
The reason Eun-yu set foot in Korea—a place she never thought she would return to—was the sudden death of Eun-woo, her twin brother, from whom she had been separated when adopted at six years old.
The two had been left at an orphanage by their biological mother, who ran away from the hospital right after their birth.
Later, Eun-yu learned that their birth mother had been a very young, unmarried mother. She had suddenly become pregnant and, perhaps feeling incapable of raising them, abandoned the newborns and ran away. Naturally, nothing was known about their father.
Life in the orphanage wasn’t so bad. Though they had no parents, the nuns raised them with care and love. It was the only truly happy time in their memories.
“Please get out here.”
The driver sent by Eun-woo’s family escorted Eun-yu from the airport to the funeral home. “Escort” was a polite term; in reality, it was more like surveillance.
The car stopped not at the main entrance of the funeral hall but at a private entrance used by the staff.
“If you go downstairs, the memorial room is there.”
Eun-yu didn’t reply and headed straight toward the entrance. Inside, an elevator led underground, and she stepped in immediately.
Once she reached the basement, she looked around. There was almost no one. The entire floor seemed empty, as if hidden from the public.
She thought maybe it was because some families preferred private funerals, but something still felt off. Not a single wreath, which would normally be seen at funerals, was present.
Eun-woo had been adopted into the family of Hyunjin Construction, a mid-sized company. Their daughter had died, yet there were no wreaths, no visitors, and even the family who should have received condolences was absent.
Since Eun-yu and Eun-woo had kept in touch through emails, she had assumed he had grown up loved in a wealthy family. How could she interpret the family’s absence at his funeral?
Eun-yu followed the only room that had lights on.
The only indication that this was Eun-woo’s memorial room was the portrait. But it was strange—it was a photo taken before their adoption, when they were still children.
Why use a childhood photo instead of one taken as an adult?
She quietly stared at Eun-woo’s childhood photo, his expression slowly twisting as tears filled her eyes.
“Eun-yu… let’s never be apart. Okay?”
At the time, she hadn’t known how meaningless the promise would be. Even if they were far apart, she had thought they could always be together. Eun-yu had linked her pinky with his.
Even a vague childhood promise had given her a reason to keep going. Eun-woo had been her entire world.
“When I grow up, I want to find Mom and Dad.”
Eun-woo had always wanted to find their biological parents. He didn’t know how hard it would be, yet he wished for it every birthday. Eun-yu’s thoughts were different.
At first, she had tolerated visits from volunteers at the orphanage. Eun-woo was gentle and kind, so he was loved by everyone. But Eun-yu didn’t let others get close.
Volunteers always promised to come back, but few actually did. Those who supported them financially—buying food, clothes, and school supplies—were far better. Eun-yu realized the truth too early, before even developing feelings of trust for people.
Of course, Eun-woo was different. Though they looked and sounded identical, their personalities were not.
Even people who didn’t raise them sometimes confused the twins. Eun-yu, unlike gentle Eun-woo, was strong-willed, discerning, and could sense people’s intentions immediately.
Being a less “adorable” child was a disadvantage. Naturally, the obedient Eun-woo was adopted first.
“I don’t want to go, Eun-yu!”
On the day of the adoption decision, Eun-woo refused to eat and cried. Both the nun and Eun-yu struggled to comfort him. They would be separated, and the adoption was to a faraway America. Eun-yu worried that Eun-woo’s wish to find their parents would never come true.
Soon after, Eun-yu’s adoption was also arranged—to Hyunjin Construction.
“Let go of this!”
While Eun-yu was lost in her memories, commotion erupted outside. Someone had arrived at the funeral after all.
“Let go!! Eun-woo!”
A man’s shout echoed through the silent funeral hall. Eun-yu ignored it at first but eventually stepped outside.
“Eun-woo! I said let go! Eun-woo!”
A man she had never seen was being restrained by the driver, calling out Eun-woo’s name. He seemed to have known him personally.
When the man saw Eun-yu, his rage subsided. The driver looked surprised, as if he had witnessed something forbidden. Security guards arrived and dragged the man out.
Even as he was pulled away, his eyes never left Eun-yu. It was clear why he had been so shocked—he probably felt like Eun-woo had returned from the dead. His intense grief suggested a deep personal connection.
The driver hurried to Eun-yu, flustered.
“Uh… um…”
He seemed ready to explain, but Eun-yu didn’t care about the man. She tried to return inside, but the driver stopped her.
“The chairman is waiting for you.”
It was a call from Eun-woo’s adoptive father—who had never shown up, not even a strand of hair visible at the funeral.
“Tell him to come himself if he has something to say.”
“W-what? But the chairman is Eun-woo’s father…”
Even adoptive parents had responsibilities. They should have been at their daughter’s funeral. Eun-yu had no intention of playing along with polite lies.
“Calling himself a father? If he wanted respect as a parent, he should have been here at the funeral.”
The driver tried to reason, but Eun-yu didn’t care.
“They aren’t my parents, are they?”
Correct. She was Eun-woo’s twin, not related to these people.
“Miss, you’re making this difficult for me.”
The driver scowled, showing his irritation. Eun-yu only smiled at his discomfort.
“So? Then let the person who wants something come to me.”
With that, Eun-yu went back inside the funeral hall.
To be continued ▶
