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# Chapter 209: A Mother’s Voice
When the doctor entered, Mother was already awake.
Seo-ah was stepping into the hallway to call the medical staff when Mother’s hand seized her arm. The grip was weak, but unmistakable. Intentional. A plea. Or a warning.
“What… are you doing?”
Mother asked. Her voice sounded like wind through sand, but it was clear. Consciousness was returning. Her clouded eyes were finding focus.
“I need to call the doctor. You’re awake now.”
Seo-ah answered.
Mother’s grip tightened.
“Not yet… don’t.”
In that moment, Do-hyun rose from the opposite side of the bed. Dozens of sleepless hours were etched into the seventeen-year-old’s face. Dark circles beneath his eyes. Pale lips. Relief that Mother had awakened and terror that something far greater was about to begin, both suspended there simultaneously.
“Mom. We need to get the doctor. You’ve been sleeping for fourteen days.”
Do-hyun said. His voice still carried a child’s tremor.
“I know… I know.”
Mother turned her head slowly. Each movement looked painful, as if her neck were a rusted hinge. Her eyes searched for Do-hyun. Her son.
“My Do-hyun.”
Mother whispered.
Tears spilled from Do-hyun’s eyes. He seemed unaware he was already crying. The tears traced down his cheeks. A seventeen-year-old’s tears. But beneath them lay the exhaustion of someone twice his age.
“Mom. I’m here. I’ve been here the whole time.”
Do-hyun said.
Seo-ah said nothing. Instead, she watched the gaze between Mother and Do-hyun. She felt its weight. Something hovered in Mother’s eyes. Guilt. Or fear. Or love. Or some mixture of all three.
“Seo-ah.”
Mother called to her suddenly.
Seo-ah didn’t move.
“Come… here.”
Mother said again. This time stronger. As if pouring all her remaining strength into those words.
Seo-ah moved slowly. She shifted her chair. Toward Mother’s bed. Mother’s face came closer. It felt strange to study her face in such detail after fourteen days. Mother’s face looked smaller. As if during these fourteen-and-a-half days, her mother had somehow shrunk. Or as if Seo-ah had grown.
Mother’s hand found Seo-ah’s hand. Found it and held it.
“Did you… hear my voice?”
Mother asked.
Seo-ah didn’t understand.
“What?”
Seo-ah asked.
Mother’s grip strengthened. As if confirming something. As if verifying that this hand was truly her daughter’s hand.
“I… dreamed. I heard your voice. All night… I heard it.”
Mother spoke. Words came slowly. As if swimming up from beneath water.
“But you were sleeping?”
Do-hyun asked. His voice seeking medical precision.
“I was sleeping… but I heard. Your voice. Seo-ah’s voice.”
Mother said.
Something filled Seo-ah’s chest. Her breathing became shallow. She couldn’t name what this was. Guilt. Love. Fear.
“That voice… woke me.”
Mother’s eyes found Seo-ah’s again. There was something in those eyes. It wasn’t welcome. It wasn’t recognition. It wasn’t love. It was fear. The emotion this woman felt, looking at her own daughter, was fear of her own daughter.
“Mom. What are you afraid of?”
Seo-ah asked. Her own surprise evident in her voice.
Mother didn’t answer. Instead, she closed her eyes. As if she couldn’t bear to look at Seo-ah anymore. As if meeting her daughter’s gaze was itself painful.
The door opened.
The medical team entered. The night nurse and a resident physician. Wonder was written across their faces. A patient who hadn’t moved in fourteen days waking up was itself a medical miracle.
“Mother, you’re awake. That’s good. Everyone, would you step outside for a moment? We need to do some basic examinations.”
The resident said.
Seo-ah stood. Do-hyun stood too. As they released Mother’s hand, new fear appeared in Do-hyun’s face. Fear that Mother might say something while alone with the medical staff. That she might confess. Or that she might wake up further.
In the corridor, Seo-ah and Do-hyun stood in silence.
The hospital hallway was a hallway at 5 a.m. Nearly empty. Only the cold light of fluorescent tubes. Beneath that light, everything seemed to lose substance. Color. Warmth. Life itself.
“Noona.”
Do-hyun spoke first.
“Yeah.”
Seo-ah answered.
“What is Mom afraid of?”
Do-hyun asked.
Seo-ah wanted to say she didn’t know. But she didn’t want to add a lie. This child already knew too much. He had already grown too much.
“It seems like Mom is… hiding something. From us.”
Seo-ah said.
Do-hyun nodded. As if he’d already known.
“What did Kang Ri-u say? Really.”
Do-hyun asked again.
This time, Seo-ah chose not to lie.
“That Dad… wasn’t really our dad. That Kang Min-jun is our father. That Kang Ri-u is our older brother.”
Seo-ah said.
Do-hyun’s face went pale. But there was no shock. As if he’d already sensed it somewhere. Or as if he’d felt something that night when he met Kang Ri-u.
“Kang Min-jun is the chairman of JYA Entertainment.”
Do-hyun said. His voice confirming facts.
“Yeah.”
Seo-ah answered.
“Then what are we. What’s our connection to that company.”
Do-hyun asked.
Seo-ah said she didn’t know. That was the truth too. Seo-ah really didn’t know. What was that black folder Kang Ri-u had brought out. What did Kang Ri-u’s father intend. And what was Mother afraid of.
“Noona. Should we call our real dad?”
Do-hyun asked. The father they knew. Short. Quiet voice. Always silent.
Seo-ah thought. If she called that man, what would she say. ‘Dad, actually you weren’t our real dad’? ‘Dad, you didn’t abandon us—we just never looked for you’?
“Maybe… not yet.”
Seo-ah said.
Do-hyun nodded. But his eyes sank deeper. Another secret taken on. Another silence gained.
Time passed in the hospital corridor. 5:12 a.m. 5:23 a.m. 5:41 a.m. Morning was coming slowly. Through the hospital windows, the sky was gradually turning gray. Night was ending. Another night was ending.
The medical team came out. Relief showed on the resident’s face.
“All of Mother’s vital signs are normal. Her consciousness seems clear too. However, we recommend psychiatric consultation regarding her psychological state. Since she’s woken after fourteen days of coma, there could be trauma or memory loss.”
The resident said.
Seo-ah heard those words, but didn’t really hear them. She already knew. That Mother carried trauma. That there were things Mother didn’t want to remember. And that Mother was afraid of her own daughter.
“Thank you.”
Seo-ah said.
When they entered the room again, Mother’s eyes were closed. But she wasn’t fully asleep. Her eyelashes trembled slightly. A state of being awake while sleeping. Or the reverse.
Do-hyun held Mother’s hand again. Seo-ah sat in a chair. Facing the window. Looking outward.
Seoul was waking. Buildings in Gangnam were turning on their lights one by one. A city at 6 a.m. Still a city of night. Still an unfinished city.
Seo-ah’s phone rang.
It was Kang Ri-u.
Seo-ah didn’t answer. Instead, she turned off the screen and put the phone in her pocket.
Mother was afraid of something. It could be Seo-ah herself. It could be Kang Ri-u. It could be Kang Min-jun. Or it could be all of them. But there was nothing Seo-ah could do right now. Only sit. Only wait. Until Mother opened her mouth.
The fluorescent light in the room continued to pour out its cold glow.
6:47 a.m.
Another day was about to begin.
[The Heart of This Chapter]
– Mother’s Awakening: Emerging from a fourteen-day coma, revealing her fear of Seo-ah
– Family Secrets Exposed: Kang Min-jun being Seo-ah’s biological father is confirmed to Do-hyun as well
– The Weight of Silence: Mother’s intention to avoid medical staff and hide the truth
– Seo-ah’s Passivity: Not answering Kang Ri-u’s call, choosing to wait until deeper truths emerge
– Do-hyun’s Growth: A seventeen-year-old boy transforming from child to adult
[Hints for Next Chapter]
– Why does Mother fear Seo-ah’s voice?
– What are Kang Min-jun’s intentions?
– What’s inside the black folder Kang Ri-u brought?
– Will Seo-ah’s biological father (Kang Min-jun) finally meet her?