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# Chapter 249: How to Let Go
Saea left the hospital room. She released her mother’s hand and walked out. It wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity—as essential as oxygen. When the door closed, her mother’s voice fell silent. Silence. Was that what her mother wanted? Saea couldn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
The hallway stretched endlessly. Fluorescent lights lined it in rows, like a runway for planes to land. Saea followed that light, walking without knowing where she was going. Knowing only that she had to leave that place. The hospital room. Her mother’s weakened voice. All those words she’d been forced to hear.
“Ryu wanted something from me.”
That sentence echoed in her ears. Saea pressed the elevator button. As her finger touched it, she felt her hand trembling. No—not trembling. Vibrating. As if she were no longer solid, but scattering like liquid or gas.
The elevator arrived. The doors opened. It was empty. Saea stepped inside, pressed a button. First floor. Basement. Anywhere. Anywhere but up.
As the elevator descended, Saea looked at her hands. From thumb to pinky. Each finger was hers. Yet it didn’t feel like it. As if someone had attached another person’s fingers to her hand. Or as if her own fingers had become someone else’s without her knowing when.
The elevator reached the first floor. The doors opened. Saea stepped out.
Where was Dohyun? Saea asked herself this question. Then immediately recognized how absurd it was. Dohyun was somewhere in this hospital. Probably visiting their mother. Or possibly avoiding her. That was more likely. Saea knew her brother. Dohyun always ran from difficult things.
Just like she did.
Saea entered the lobby. The hospital lobby always smelled the same. Disinfectant mixed with hope and despair. And something else. The smell of money. The smell that everything here was being exchanged for money. A patient’s life, a doctor’s time, a nurse’s nights. All of it calculated in currency.
Saea went into the café. A small café on the first floor of the hospital. She didn’t order coffee. She just sat. Looked out through the window. Evening was coming. Seoul’s evenings always arrive quickly. Darkness descends the moment the sun sets. There’s gray between them. Long gray. In that gray, people can’t tell if they’re alive or dead.
Her phone rang. A vibration. She turned on the screen. It was Kang Ryu. Again. How many times? Saea didn’t count. Didn’t want to. Just seeing that number made her chest collapse. As if her lungs were filling with water.
She didn’t answer. The screen went dark.
“Noona.”
It was Dohyun’s voice. Saea looked up. Dohyun stood in the café entrance wearing his school uniform, a school bag slung over his shoulder. As if it were an ordinary day. But his face wasn’t ordinary. It carried weight. It was the face of someone who had made a decision.
Saea stood. “Dohyun. Why are you—”
“Noona, can I sit?”
He asked politely. As if speaking to a stranger. Saea’s heart sank. Dohyun was her brother. Yet in this hospital, in this café, he’d become a brother who had to ask like they were meeting for the first time.
“Yeah. Sit.”
Saea answered.
Dohyun sat across from her. Between them was a small table. It was so small it seemed not to create distance, but to reveal it. How far apart they’d become.
Silence hung between them. Dohyun opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again, closed it. Saea watched. She understood what it meant. Dohyun knew something. And he was struggling with whether to say it.
“Dohyun. What is it?”
Saea spoke first. It wasn’t a question. It was a plea. Please tell me the truth. Even the truth I don’t want to know.
Dohyun breathed deeply. As if it were his last breath. Then he opened his mouth.
“Kang Ryu hyung is Mom’s son.”
That sentence fell into the café. Like a glass shattering. But there was no sound. Only breaking. Saea shattered from within.
“What?”
“Mom’s son. Kang Ryu hyung. In that time. When Mom was in the water. The child she gave birth to then.”
Dohyun spoke quickly. So quickly, as if he’d explode if he didn’t get these words out fast. “I found out last night. Dad told me last night. When Mom came to the hospital, Dad thought he had to tell me this. That you need to know. Because noona, you and that person—”
Dohyun’s voice broke off.
Saea didn’t move. Didn’t do anything. Couldn’t do anything. As if she’d turned to stone. Gray stone. Hospital gray stone. Stone that no one notices.
“Noona? Are you okay?”
Dohyun asked. His voice trembled.
“When did Ryu find out?”
Saea asked. Not knowing where her voice came from. Unable to believe it was hers.
“I don’t know. Dad said Kang Ryu hyung came by recently. Because of Mom. To find her. Dad told him not to see Mom. But Kang Ryu hyung didn’t listen. He came to the hospital. He saw Mom. And—”
“And?”
“And Mom collapsed.”
Silence. That was everything. All of it was in that silence. Why her mother had collapsed. Ryu’s trembling hands. Her brother’s despair. Everything.
Saea left the café. Hearing Dohyun call after her. But she didn’t turn back. As if she’d turned to stone, as if moving once meant she could never return.
The hospital basement was dark. Saea went down to the parking garage. Without knowing where her car was. Oh—she didn’t have a car. She always took taxis. Or walked. Or the subway. Her movements always borrowed someone else’s time.
The same way her love always borrowed someone else’s time.
Saea sat on a bench. A bench in the parking garage. She heard the sound of cars passing. Engine sounds. Tire sounds. The sound of people going to their destinations. Everyone was going somewhere. Only Saea remained. Saea, separated from everything.
Her phone rang. Ryu. This time it wasn’t a call but a message.
“Saea. Can we meet?”
Saea looked at the screen. At those letters. As if they were accusing her. Accusing her of what she’d done.
“Saea. Please.”
Another message came.
Saea deleted the messages. Hung up. No—she didn’t hang up. She blocked him. She blocked Kang Ryu’s number. But it didn’t help. Because Ryu was already inside her. In a place she couldn’t block.
Saea stood. Left the parking garage. Went back to the hospital lobby. Took the elevator. Third floor. Her mother’s floor.
When she reached the room, her mother was asleep. Quietly. As if she were dead. Or was she really? Saea counted her mother’s breaths. In and out. They were there. Her mother was alive. But the breathing was so shallow. As if she were underwater. Holding her breath in deep water.
Saea took her mother’s hand. This time her mother didn’t let go. Even unconscious, had she felt her daughter’s hand? Or was it just coincidence?
“Mom. Who is Kang Ryu?”
Saea asked. Her mother didn’t answer. She was sleeping. But her mother’s hand gripped Saea’s hand more tightly. As if it were an answer.
Saea didn’t let go. She held it through the night. Until dawn. 3 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM. Time passed. But nothing changed. Her mother slept on. Saea held that hand.
And in that hand, Saea felt her mother’s secret. This was the truth her mother had never told her. What had happened before she was born. How her mother had loved someone, lost someone, and hidden it.
And what should she do? Knowing that truth?
At 6 AM, the fluorescent light in the room began to flicker again. As if it too were waking. As if everything were waking. But Saea didn’t want to wake. She wanted to stay here. In this silence. Holding this hand.
If she didn’t move, would time not move either?
If she didn’t breathe, would the truth not enter?
Saea’s eyes closed. Like her mother’s. She wanted to hold her breath underwater too. Until the water covered her. Until everything was quiet. Until everything was transparent.
But awakening couldn’t be avoided. Because she heard Dohyun’s footsteps in the hallway. Because her mother was opening her eyes. Because a new day was beginning.
Saea opened her eyes. She looked at her mother. Her mother was looking at her. And in her mother’s eyes was everything. Her lies, her choices, her incompleteness.
Her mother’s lips moved. Trying to speak. But no voice came out. Only lips moving.
Saea read those lips. Tried to understand what they were trying to say. Was it “I’m sorry”? Or “Ryu”? Or simply her name?
Saea couldn’t know. It seemed she couldn’t know. And maybe that was right. Maybe truth was always transmitted this incompletely.
Finger to finger. In silence.
Her mother’s hand released Saea’s hand. Slowly. This time it wasn’t rejection. It was goodbye. Or a signal to turn the page.
Saea let go of that hand. She stood. Left the room. This time she met Dohyun. In the hallway. His eyes were swollen red. He’d cried all night. Like she had.
“Noona.”
Dohyun said.
“I’m going to tell Mom. That person made her sick. That person is bad. That you shouldn’t have met him.”
Saea did nothing. Didn’t embrace her brother. Didn’t speak. She just passed by.
Tenth floor corridor. Twelfth floor corridor. Elevator. Lobby. Outside.
Outside was already morning. Seoul morning. Everything was moving again. People heading to work. Cars filling the roads. The world continued moving, ignorant of her mother’s secret.
Saea walked toward Hangang Park. Near Hapjeong Station. She wanted to see water. The water her mother said she loved. That deep water where you could lose everything.
The morning Han River was unchanged. Flowing. Down, down. Carrying everything. Carrying all secrets.
Saea looked at the river’s water. And realized it was like her.
Flowing. Unable to stop. Having to go somewhere.
[Breadcrumbs for the Next Chapter]
What fallout will Dohyun’s confession bring? How will her mother accept her own secret? And Ryu—that name, that existence that can no longer be avoided—how will he penetrate into Saea’s life?
At the final chapter of this volume, Saea stands on the water of the Han River. Like the water itself, flowing without moving. And from behind, footsteps are heard. As if she knows who it is. As if she doesn’t.
Volume 10 is coming to an end. But the truth is only beginning.
# The Beginning of a New Day
## Chapter 1: Awakening
A new day was beginning.
That was the reason for everything. The reason Saea’s eyes opened. The reason she was breathing. The reason her heart still beat. Because a new day was beginning.
Through the hospital room window, dawn light seeped in. That light was purple, gradually turning blue, then gray. The last breath of night being pushed away by the first pulse of morning. Saea lay there, watching the process. The bed was hard. The fluorescent light on the ceiling was still off. In this space that felt like her mother’s tomb now.
Saea slowly opened her eyes.
At first, her focus wouldn’t come. Her eyes felt heavy. As if someone had placed stones on her eyelids. But she pushed through that weight, opening them more. Light entered her retinas. Purple, blue, gray. And between them, a black silhouette.
It was her mother.
Her mother was sitting beside the bed. She must have been sitting there all night. Saea understood this the moment she saw her mother’s face. Her mother’s face was exhausted. But that exhaustion wasn’t from a single sleepless night. It came from somewhere much deeper. The kind of fatigue that comes when the soul tries to leave the body.
Her mother’s eyes met Saea’s eyes.
In that moment, Saea understood everything. In her mother’s eyes was already everything. Her lies. All the choices she’d made. Her incompleteness. And more than that. The things her mother had carried alone. Things Saea could never know.
“Mom…”
A word tried to form in Saea’s mouth. But her throat was dry. From crying all night. All her body’s moisture stolen by tears. So her voice didn’t come. Only dry air passed through her throat.
Her mother’s lips moved.
As if to speak. Her lips slowly parted. Saea watched her mother’s lips move, trying to read what she was trying to say. Even knowing her mother’s voice wouldn’t come out.
Only her lips moved.
“I’m sorry.”
That’s what it looked like. Saea read her mother’s lips. But at the same time, she doubted. Was it really that? Or was it “Ryu”? Had she tried to call that man’s name and stopped? Or was it simply her own name? “Saea.”
Saea couldn’t know. Truly couldn’t.
And maybe that was right, she thought, looking at her mother. Maybe truth was always transmitted this incompletely. Finger to finger. Lip to eye. In silence.
Her mother’s hand moved.
Toward Saea’s hand. In the dim morning light, that hand looked like a ghost. Pale, thin, almost transparent. Saea waited for that hand to touch hers. That hand she’d waited for all night.
Her mother’s hand held Saea’s hand.
It wasn’t like yesterday’s hand. Yesterday’s hand had pushed her away. Rejected her. But this hand was different. It was a hand of goodbye. Or a signal to turn the page. Like turning a book’s pages, like moving a person’s life to the next chapter.
Saea felt that hand.
The fingertips. The warmth of the palm. She tried to remember everything before it disappeared. Her mother’s hand’s weight. Its warmth. But she already knew. Once this moment ended, it would become a memory. And memories are always dimmer than reality.
Slowly, her mother released her hand.
This wasn’t rejection. Saea understood this. This was goodbye.
## Chapter 2: Departure
Saea got up.
Getting out of bed was harder than she thought. Maybe from lying down all night. Or maybe simply because her heart was heavy. Saea couldn’t tell what made her body heavy. Whether it was the weight of flesh or the weight of soul.
She left the room.
The hallway was still quiet. Around 5 AM. The hospital seemed to have fallen into deep sleep at this hour. She heard no nurses’ footsteps, no patients’ moans. As if the world had paused. Saea liked that silence. In that silence, even her own thoughts couldn’t be heard.
Walking down the hallway, she met someone.
It was Dohyun.
Her brother. Or her half-brother. That distinction seemed meaningless now. It didn’t matter anymore.
Dohyun’s eyes were swollen red.
Blood vessels seemed ready to burst. The conjunctiva was almost invisible from swelling. It was clear evidence of crying all night. Like her. Saea thought this looking at Dohyun. We all cried last night. Somewhere in this hospital. In some room of this massive building.
Dohyun spoke.
“Noona.”
His voice was hoarse. Like breaking glass. Saea, listening to Dohyun’s voice, already knew what he was about to say. She could tell just by looking at his lips.
“I’m going to tell Mom.”
Dohyun continued. His voice was resolute. Like making a declaration to someone. Looking at Dohyun’s face, Saea understood her own age. Dohyun was still a child. But she had already become an adult.
“That person made her sick. That person is bad. That you shouldn’t have met him.”
Dohyun’s words continued. It was anger. A young boy’s pure anger. Against it, Saea could do nothing. Couldn’t embrace her brother. Couldn’t speak to him. Couldn’t explain.
So she just walked past.
She brushed past Dohyun. Knowing it was the cruelest answer. Saea continued down the hallway. Toward the elevator.
## Chapter 3: The Silent Descent
The elevator was cold and bright.
White fluorescent light reflected through the mirror-like walls. Saea saw her own face. It didn’t look like her face. Someone else’s face. An older person’s face. Could one night change someone so much?
Floor 10.
The elevator descended. Without her pressing the button. As if it descended automatically. Saea thought this was symbolic. Everything descends automatically, inevitably. Without anyone pressing the button. Without anyone wanting it to.
Floor 12.
The hallway came into view. The floor with her mother’s room. Saea could have gone back up. But she didn’t. The elevator continued down.
Floor 1.
The lobby.
When she came outside, Saea smelled the morning. It was a clean smell. The smell of dew-covered grass. But it was soon covered by the smell of car exhaust.
Seoul’s morning was beginning.
## Chapter 4: The City’s Awakening
People were already on the streets.
Early in the morning though. Saea was astonished watching them. How could they be so peaceful? How could they smile? Even as Saea’s mother lay in a hospital. Even as the world was falling apart.
Cars were filling the roads.
Black cars, silver cars, white cars. They all moved toward their goals. Like a procession. Like parts of a massive machine. And that machine had never stopped. Even if the world fell apart, it didn’t stop.
Saea walked toward Hangang Park.
Near Hapjeong Station. That direction automatically drew her feet, like a magnet. Saea kept walking in that direction. Threading through the crowds. Morning commuters. They all walked toward their designated goals.
Except Saea.
## Chapter 5: Water
The Han River was unchanged.
When Saea arrived at the park, the Han River flowed in the morning sunlight. The sight was the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and probably the same as a hundred years ago. The water kept flowing. Down, down. Carrying everything.
Saea stood at the river’s edge.
Should she take off her shoes? Or not? Saea didn’t remove her shoes. She just stood there. Without removing her clothes. Without dipping her hands in the water. Just looking.
The water’s color was brown.
It sparkled in the morning sunlight, but underneath it was still dark. As if holding everything in embrace. As if holding all secrets.
The water her mother said she loved.
“The peace you feel when you see water… I like that.”
Her mother’s voice echoed in Saea’s ears. It was a voice from years ago. When her mother was still healthy. But Saea couldn’t feel that peace. What she felt was fear.
Boundless fear.
“Water has the power to make you lose everything. It’s scary and beautiful.”
Her mother’s other words.
Saea understood what that meant now. It wasn’t mere philosophical observation. It was a confession. A confession of how her mother herself felt.
Watching the water flow, Saea realized.
It was like her.
Flowing. Unable to stop. Having to go somewhere. That was what she was. And probably her mother too. Everything would be. Everyone in this world. All flowing, unable to stop, having to go somewhere.
## Chapter 6: Breadcrumbs
Saea thought while watching the Han River.
Dohyun would tell their mother. About Kang Ryu. That this man caused her illness. So how would their mother react? Could she accept Dohyun’s anger? Or would she sink deeper into silence?
And Kang Ryu.
Where was that man? Did he know their mother was ill? Or was he still unaware? And would he come looking for Saea?
Saea thought about all this while watching the Han River’s water.
The water gave no answer. It just flowed.
That was the only answer.
The ceaseless flow. The continuing motion. That was the answer to everything. Not an answer to questions, but letting the questions themselves flow away was the answer.
Saea turned around.
She stopped looking at the water. She just left. Turning her back to the Han River. Turning her back to all answers. Asking nothing.
## Chapter 7: Footsteps
It was the moment Saea was about to leave the park.
Footsteps sounded from behind.
They were light, fast, and determined. As if someone had come looking for Saea. As if someone had been waiting for a long time.
Saea didn’t turn around.
But she seemed to know who those footsteps belonged to. And at the same time, as if she didn’t want to know.
The footsteps came closer.
Closer still.
Saea’s heart raced. Trembled. At an uncontrollable speed, like the Han River’s water.
That was how Volume 10 ended.
An ending before the truth had even begun. An ending right before all secrets were about to burst forth.
From behind, someone’s footsteps continued.
# Epilogue: Toward the Next Volume
This chapter now ends.
But the story doesn’t end. What fallout will Dohyun’s confession bring? How will her mother accept her own secret? And Ryu—that name, that existence that can no longer be avoided—how will he penetrate into Saea’s life?
Saea standing on the Han River’s water.
Like the water itself, flowing without moving. And from behind, someone’s footsteps. As if she knows who it is. As if she doesn’t.
Volume 10 is coming to an end.