"사랑해요… S-a-l-a-n-g-h-a-e-y-o. Georgie, salanghae. George, I said salanghae. George!"
"Yeah, yeah… salan whatever. What's this about now?"
"I'm learning Korean."
"You haven't finished French yet."
"So? I can do both. Right, Mother?"
"Yes, sweetheart. George, let your sister be."
"I didn't do anything!"
The young boy huffed and angrily bit into his apple.
Outside, soft rain tapped against the windows and roof, adding a gentle, comforting rhythm to the house. The fire in the hearth cast a warm glow over the room.
Their mother chuckled from the kitchen, busying herself with dinner preparations for their family of four.
Knock. Knock.
"Oh, that might be your father."
The young woman smiled, wiping her hands on her apron as she headed to the door—but her son beat her to it.
"Careful, George."
"I got it!"
George pulled a stool to the door, climbing up to reach the handle. Outside stood a young boy, about a year older.
"Mom, it's Donald and Trevor."
"Uncle Trevor, he's not your age mate. Come in, please."
George rolled his eyes at his mother's correction, earning a stern glare. Trevor and Donald stepped inside, slipping off their shoes and settling in.
Donald calmly made his way to the coffee table where Gina leaned over her books and notes. He glanced at her childish scribbles and smiled teasingly.
"Hey, shortie. Whatcha doing?"
"I'm not short—you're just exaggeratedly tall. I'm studying Korean."
"Another language? George, your sister's turning into a nerd."
"Hey, I'm not a nerd!"
"Yeah, she's not a nerd—she's smart, that's all. Don't mind him, Gigi. Keep studying. Big bro's got your back."
"It's a one minute and forty-five seconds difference. Barka."
Gina muttered the last word, but it still reached George, causing him to squint at her.
"Hey, I understood that one. You use it a lot."
"Whatever."
Amid their playful banter, Trevor quietly helped their mother in the kitchen.
The rain gradually intensified, muffling their voices. Each drop seemed to pull the world into a soft, cocooned hush.
After dinner, Rachel kept glancing at the clock, her expression slowly growing tense.
7:00 PM
8:00 PM
9:00 PM
10:00 PM
The frown deepened with each passing hour. The children were asleep, and the rain showed no sign of letting up. Trevor sat quietly in the living room, a book in hand, a silent observer of the uneasy calm.
11:12 PM
Suddenly, Rachel stumbled, caught only by the couch. Beads of sweat formed on her face, and her clothes clung to her frame, drenched. Trevor's gaze flicked between her and the door, anticipation tightening his posture.
Nothing. Silence.
Then, as abruptly as it had started, the rain stopped.
Rachel shook her head, as if denying the fear clawing at her.
"You need rest, Aunty—"
"Call Renzo."
"Aunty—"
"Immediately!"
Trembling, Trevor reached for his phone.