Morning sunlight filtered through the soft curtains upstairs, warming the quiet room. Mira blinked slowly, her body heavy with sleep but her mind calmer than it had been in days. The scent of something familiar eggs, toast, floated up from downstairs.
She slipped out of bed, still hugging the unicorn plush loosely in one hand before setting it back on the pillow. Her feet padded quietly against the wooden stairs.
Downstairs, laughter met her ears.
Her uncle stood at the stove flipping something in the pan, while So Ri leaned against the counter, biting into a piece of toast.
"There she is!" So Ri grinned. "Our princess finally decided to wake up."
Mira rolled her eyes playfully, stretching. "Stop calling me that."
"Too late," So Ri said. "Now, Your Highness, what would you like for breakfast? We have toast, eggs, fried rice, or the finest instant noodles available to royalty."
Mira chuckled and joined them at the table. Her uncle poured tea for them, his face relaxed in a way it rarely was in public just family here, no walls.
Breakfast passed with quiet smiles and clinking dishes. Afterward, So Ri stood and grabbed her bag.
"I've got a shift at the café," she said, brushing crumbs off her skirt. "Mira, don't forget your class meetup today, okay? Wear something other than pajamas, I beg you." She waved and disappeared out the door.
Mira leaned back in her chair. The kitchen felt warm, safe. Like the past hadn't bruised her bones the way it did. Her uncle stayed at the table with her, sipping his second cup of tea.
For a moment, silence.
Then he said gently, "If you're confused about what to do, why not just finish your current work first? Let your steps be small. One step clears another."
Mira looked down at her cup. "I've tried," she said softly. "But every time I'm ready to play the card I've been holding, something pulls me back. Like it'll burn whatever's left."
Her uncle didn't flinch. "Even if it does burn," he said, "I'm still here, Mira. Always. You can run, hide, fall apart hI'll stay. You come back whenever you want."
Her eyes welled, but she blinked it away.
Then he added with a grin, "Oh, and So Ri told me about your class reunion today. Why don't you get some new clothes for it, huh? I can come with you—or call So Ri. Either way, you should look like the queen you are. Unless you don't want to go. That's okay too."
Mira smiled faintly. "I'll go."
Later, back at her apartment, she stepped into a whirlwind.
Clothes were everywhere.
So Ri was practically buried under a pile of skirts and blouses. "I swear nothing fits the mood today," she groaned. "What does a woman wear to remind her old classmates she's hot and thriving?"
Mira held up her usual grey sweatshirt and black trousers.
So Ri gasped. "If you're going in that, I swear I'll lock you in here and go in your place."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "It's just a meetup, not a runway."
"No," So Ri said, hands on hips. "It's your moment. Your soft revenge. You show up not for them but for you. You show them you've got joy, life, love without needing their permission. Be the girl who owns the room. The one who makes people wonder where she got all that quiet confidence."
Mira paused.
Then, slowly, she set the sweatshirt down.
Maybe she would wear something else today.
Not for them.
But for herself.