Seo-yeon didn't sleep that night.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word the man had said. Every pause. Every glance. Every certainty.
Your father mentioned you.
It wasn't a threat.
It was confirmation.
Which meant her father had reached a point where he had no control over what parts of his life remained private.
Morning came slowly.
Too slowly.
She walked into the kitchen, her body heavy with exhaustion she couldn't show.
Her father was already there.
Drinking coffee.
Alive.
Unaware.
She watched him quietly.
Her chest tightened.
He looked like the same man she had saved.
But now she knew something else had found him.
Something that didn't disappear when fate changed.
He noticed her staring.
"Did you sleep late?" he asked gently.
She hesitated.
This was the moment.
The moment where silence stopped being protection.
And started being danger.
"…Someone came to the school," she said.
His hand froze mid-motion.
The coffee cup stopped inches from his lips.
She saw it immediately.
Fear.
Not imagined.
Not subtle.
Real.
Her heart sank.
"He knew my name," she continued.
Her father slowly lowered the cup.
His eyes didn't meet hers.
Not immediately.
"Seo-yeon…"
His voice wasn't calm anymore.
It wasn't steady.
It was something she had never heard before.
It was guilt.
She stepped closer.
"He came to the house too."
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Her father closed his eyes briefly.
Like he had been hoping this moment would never arrive.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
The words broke something inside her.
Not because she was angry.
But because she understood what they meant.
He hadn't been protecting himself.
He had been protecting her.
From this.
From the truth.
From the world that came looking.
She swallowed hard.
"Who is he?"
Her father didn't answer right away.
He walked to the table.
Sat down slowly.
Like the weight of the question had finally caught up with him.
"He's from the company," he said quietly.
"What company?"
Her father hesitated.
Then spoke the words he had tried to bury.
"The company I borrowed from."
Her blood ran cold.
This wasn't a bank.
This wasn't paperwork.
This was something else.
Something that sent men in person.
Something that didn't wait politely.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
"How much?"
He didn't answer.
Which was answer enough.