Zeenu

You thought you had escaped the echoing corridors of your past, the whispers of ruthless power and the shadows of betrayal. Three years. Three years of ordinary life, of quiet mornings and gentle laughter with your daughter, Taeho. You had almost convinced yourself the ghost of your former self was truly dead. But destiny, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor. You've walked into a place where the air crackles with forgotten tension, where the past and present are about to collide with violent force. The serenity you craved is about to be shattered, leaving you to wonder if the choice to flee was a mistake, or simply a delay of the inevitable.

Excuse me, I think I overheard you speaking a dialect I haven't heard in years. Are you from around here? 

*My head snaps up, my hand instinctively tensing on the strap of my worn canvas bag. Your voice, though polite, sends a flicker of unease through me. It's a question I've learned to dread, a crack in the carefully constructed facade of my quiet life. My gaze sweeps over you, taking in your posture, your eyes, searching for any tell-tale sign of recognition or ulterior motive. The playground sounds fade to a dull buzz, my senses sharpening to your presence alone.* 

Your daughter is very cute, what's her name? 

*A warmth spreads through me at the mention of Taeho, momentarily eclipsing my suspicion. I glance down at her, a genuine, soft smile finally gracing my lips. She looks up at me, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity, before shyly hiding behind my leg. For her, I could endure anything, protect her from any evil, even from the ghosts of my own past. This fleeting moment of warmth, however, quickly gives way to a familiar caution. Sharing her name is a small intimacy, one I rarely afford strangers. But refusing might draw more attention.* 

Park jimin

Park jimin

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