The clinic waiting room smelled like disinfectant and orange peel.
Seo sat in a plastic chair with her bag on her lap and read the same poster about prenatal vitamins four times. Across from her, a woman with a very round stomach was scrolling through baby names on her phone. Seo looked away.
"Han Seo?"
A nurse stood at the door with a clipboard. Seo stood up so fast her bag slid to the floor.
"Sorry," she said, scooping it up.
"No need to apologize. Right this way."
The doctor was a woman in her fifties with short gray hair and reading glasses on a chain. She introduced herself as Dr. Park and asked a series of simple questions. Date of last period. Any pain. Any bleeding. Seo answered each one in a small, careful voice.
"And is this a planned pregnancy?"
Seo's hands tightened in her lap. "No."
"Is there a partner involved?"
"No." She swallowed. "It was one night. I don't have a way to contact him."
Dr. Park nodded without any change in her expression, and Seo was grateful for that. "Okay. That's more common than you'd think. Let's see how things are going. Lie back for me."
The room was dim. The gel was cold. Seo stared at the ceiling tiles and counted them. Fourteen across. Nine down.
"Take a breath," Dr. Park said. "This may be a little uncomfortable."
The screen on the wall turned on. Seo didn't look at it. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
The room was quiet except for the soft click of the keyboard. Then Dr. Park said, "There we are."
Seo turned her head.
The screen showed a dark shape, and inside it, a small, flickering light.
"That's your baby's heartbeat," Dr. Park said. "Let me turn the sound on."
A rapid, steady rhythm filled the room. It sounded like a horse galloping very far away.
Seo stopped breathing.
"It's fast," she whispered.
"That's normal. About a hundred and sixty beats a minute right now. That's healthy." Dr. Park smiled. "Strong, too."
Tears ran down the sides of Seo's face and into her hair. She hadn't decided to cry. It just happened.
"That's..." Her voice broke. "That's really in there."
"It really is."
She put a hand over her mouth. For two days she had been telling herself she would think it through calmly. She'd made a list in her notes app. Money. Work. Her mother. What she would say to a child who asked about a father. Every item on it had looked enormous.
None of them looked enormous now.
"I'm keeping it," she said. It came out as a whisper, almost to herself. Then she said it louder. "I'm keeping the baby."
"Okay," Dr. Park said gently. "I'm glad you feel sure. You don't have to decide anything today, but it sounds like you already have."
"I have." Seo wiped her face. "I didn't know until I heard it."
"That happens a lot."
Dr. Park moved the probe slightly, and her eyebrows went up. She was quiet for a moment.
"Is something wrong?" Seo's voice sharpened. "Why did you stop?"
"Nothing's wrong. Hold on." Dr. Park adjusted the screen and tilted it toward her. "Look here."
Seo looked. Beside the first flickering light was a second one, slightly smaller and slightly off rhythm.
"What am I looking at?"
"Two sacs. Two heartbeats." Dr. Park turned the sound up. Underneath the first galloping rhythm was another, quicker and lighter. "Congratulations, Seo. You're having twins."
Seo stared at the screen.
"Twins," she repeated.
"Two babies. I can measure them separately if you'd like." Dr. Park glanced at her. "Are you all right?"
Seo started laughing. It was a high, shaky laugh, and she couldn't stop. She pressed both hands to her face and laughed until she was crying again.
"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm sorry. It's just... I had a list. I had a whole list. I was so worried about one."
"That's perfectly all right."
"What do I do now? I have a landlord. I have a job with no maternity plan. I don't know anything about babies. And now there are two." She pressed her hands against her stomach, as if she could feel them. "Two."
"You take it one step at a time," Dr. Park said. "Twin pregnancies are monitored a bit more closely, so we'll schedule visits every few weeks. You'll need extra rest and extra iron. I'll give you a folder with everything you need to know." She paused. "And I'd like to ask about your support. Is there anyone you can rely on?"
Seo thought of her mother, three hours away. Of a name she had no way to reach. Of the empty apartment.
"I'll figure it out," she said.
"That's not what I asked."
Seo looked at the screen again. Two small lights, blinking in the dark.
"My mother," she said. "I'll tell my mother. Not today. But soon."
"That's a good start."
Dr. Park printed two small grainy photos from the ultrasound and handed them over. Seo held them carefully by the edges, as if they might dissolve.
"Keep those somewhere safe," Dr. Park said. "Sometimes it helps to have something to look at on the harder days."
In the hallway outside, Seo sat down on a bench and studied the pictures. Two dark shapes, side by side. She could barely tell one from the other.
Her phone buzzed. It was the news alert again.
*BTS fan signing: Saturday, 2 p.m., Seoul.*
She looked at the alert, then at the ultrasound photos in her other hand.
Two days.
She didn't know what she was going to do yet. But for the first time, she wasn't only thinking of herself.
She slipped the photos into her wallet, stood up, and walked out into the afternoon light.