Dinner was peaceful.
The clink of chopsticks and the soft hum of the overhead light filled the air, punctuated occasionally by the loudest sound at the table:
Slurp.
Hyun Soo grinned mid-noodle inhale, completely unbothered by the silence.
"Minah!" he said with bright eyes. "This is the best noodle I've ever had!"
Minah blinked at him, a little startled—but then her lips curved into a gentle smile. It was small, but sincere.
Across the table, Kang Ho gave a quiet nod of agreement between bites. "The broth's just right."
Hyun Soo was already helping himself to seconds. "Forget five-star restaurants. We have Minah. Michelin who?"
Jaewook, who had been silently eating with his usual poise, finally spoke—his voice calm but carrying just the tiniest edge of a smirk.
"Indeed," he said, setting his chopsticks down. "Better than Hyun Soo's takeout disaster last week."
Hyun Soo choked slightly on his milk tea. "That was one time!"
Minah giggled softly into her bowl.
And for that brief moment, surrounded by unlikely companions, she didn't feel broken. She didn't feel like a ghost of someone forgotten.
She felt at home
-----
As they finished dinner, the plates and bowls were stacked neatly at the table.
Hyun Soo and Kang Ho stood up first, ready to bring everything to the sink.
"I'll wash," Hyun Soo offered cheerfully, already rolling up his sleeves.
"I'll supervise," Kang Ho added with a smirk.
But before either could get far, a pair of small hands gently pushed them aside.
Minah.
She pointed at herself, then toward the dishes.
Her expression was soft but firm.
Hyun Soo blinked. "Oh—"
Kang Ho raised a brow but stepped back.
From across the room, Jaewook glanced up. "Let them be."
The two men walked over to join him in the far corner of the living room. No arguments. No further questions.
As Hyun Soo passed by, he called over his shoulder, "Thanks, Minah! Let me know if you want more bubble tea later!"
Kang Ho smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "Stop flirting."
---
In the kitchen, Minah focused on her task.
Warm water. The soft clink of porcelain. Dish soap bubbles dancing under her fingertips.
It was peaceful.
She reached for her phone, opened her music app, and hit shuffle—volume low, just enough to keep her company.
At first, it was fine.
Then—Annie by John Denver began to play.
Her hands paused.
The melody drifted softly through the kitchen, gentle and nostalgic.
Then—images.
Not memories. Flashbacks.
A young woman—not Minah—lying unconscious on a cold floor.
Pills scattered across the tiles.
The same song playing faintly from an old speaker in the distance.
It wasn't her foster home.
It wasn't her orphanage.
It was somewhere else.
But it was real.
Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred. Pain bloomed behind her eyes like a splitting migraine.
The plate slipped from her hands.
CRACK.
The sound echoed sharply through the kitchen.
And then—Minah collapsed.
-----
From the other side of the living room, Jaewook was the first to move.
In an instant, all three men were on their feet.
"Minah!" Jaewook called out, his voice sharper than they'd ever heard.
They rushed to the kitchen, eyes widening as they found her on the floor—shaking, pale, her breathing uneven.
Jaewook dropped to his knees beside her, reaching for her hand.
"Call the doctor," he snapped.
Hyun Soo was already dialing.
Kang Ho gently moved the broken plate away, scanning the area for anything else.
Jaewook held her close, brushing her damp hair from her face.
"I've got you," he whispered. "I've got you."
But in his mind, he was already running through every possibility.
Whatever Minah had remembered…
They were running out of time.