The Kim mansion was silent. The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, but suffocating—wrapping around her like a thick fog, refusing to let her breathe.
Madam Kim sat alone in the dimly lit living room, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked steadily, marking each second that passed, but she wasn’t truly hearing it. Her mind was elsewhere, trapped in the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Jungkook.
She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply as the image of him resurfaced in her mind—the frail, exhausted boy lying in that hospital bed. The same boy who once had eyes full of life, now looking like he had been hollowed out from the inside.
And his son—Taehyung’s son.
Her hands clenched slightly, a flicker of something unrecognizable tightening in her chest.
She had never cared if Taehyung dated Jungkook. It had never been about Jungkook himself. No, it was about the woman who gave birth to him.
The woman she hated more than anyone else in this world.
Jeon Areum.
A name she had buried deep in her heart, locked away so that it could never touch her again. But now, it was back, clawing its way to the surface, forcing her to confront the memories she had long since refused to acknowledge.
Jeon Areum had taken everything from her.
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