Eun Shin stayed close as Seung Jee changed in the boys’ restroom, guilt gnawing relentlessly at her. Her mind swung between the transfer student and Jae Vin—her boyfriend—who was clearly lashing out at Seung Jee because of her silence and inaction. The thought that everything Seung Jee endured somehow bore her name twisted painfully in her chest.

When Seung Jee finally stepped out, clutching his ruined school uniform and gym clothes, Eun Shin’s heart clenched. She hated seeing him so humiliated, so broken.

“Were you able to wash it off?” she asked quietly.

Seung Jee trembled but forced a shaky smile.

“I-I did…”

The sight of his struggle stoked a fierce protectiveness within her, and something inside snapped. Without hesitation, she reached out, taking his hand gently in hers.

“Let’s go somewhere. Let’s skip school today,” she said firmly.

Each step toward the exit felt like a small rebellion, a shedding of the weight that had held her captive for too long. Crossing the threshold, it was as if a sliver of light finally pierced through her darkness, illuminating the path she needed to take. She didn’t look back—and refused to.

It was time to break free from the toxic cage she’d locked herself in.

Seung Jee glanced nervously back toward the classrooms where lessons were already underway, then at the open door Eun Shin was leading him through.

“E-Eun Shin?” he whispered uncertainly.

She didn’t stop. Pulling him forward, she led him away from the building and down to the gym benches by the field. Once there, she released his hand and stretched out with the widest smile she could muster.

“This feels good,” she murmured, voice soft. “No lectures, no students… just peace and quiet.”

Seung Jee awkwardly held his soaking clothes, unsure what to do. Eun Shin propped herself up on one elbow and turned toward him, offering a gentle smile. She patted the bench beside her.

“Y-Yes?” he asked hesitantly.

“Dry your clothes and come lie down,” she said with a light laugh.

He did as she said, carefully placing his wet clothes on the metal bench before sitting beside her.

“You come here often?” he asked with quiet curiosity.

Eun Shin folded her arms behind her head, gazing up at the sky.

“Only when I want peace. No one really likes this place.”

Seung Jee nodded, sensing the weight she carried. He settled beside her, silence stretching between them as she slowly drifted into sleep.

CLASS ENDED

When the school bell rang, students began streaming out of the classrooms toward the gates. Eun Shin’s eyes fluttered open, and she turned to find Seung Jee still asleep, his head resting heavily on the cold metal bench. A soft smile curved her lips at his innocence—how quietly he had accepted the day’s hardships without complaint.

As she pushed herself up, a jacket slipped off her shoulder. She froze. His jacket.

He covered me… while I was asleep?

Her chest warmed at the simple kindness from someone who wasn’t her own father. Gently, she reached out to wake him.

“Hae Seung Jee?” she whispered softly.

His brow furrowed as his eyes blinked open, confusion lingering.

“Huh? O-oh… E-eun…” His gaze found hers, sheepish yet grateful.

She stood and extended a hand.

“Let’s grab our backpacks before we head out.”

He chuckled quietly and nodded, slipping off the now-dry clothes he’d left to dry. Together, they returned to the classroom, retrieved their bags, and stepped out through the school gates.

At the corner near the convenience store, they parted ways. Eun Shin’s smile was bright and genuine.

“Get home safely,” she called, waving.

Seung Jee nodded, returning the wave with a shy smile.

Eun Shin turned toward home, skipping her tutoring class for the day. The weight of the afternoon felt lighter somehow, a small break from the chaos she’d grown used to.

Eun Shin slipped off her shoes as she reached home and stepped inside quietly, eyes scanning the rooms for anyone else. Suddenly, Lim Rin burst out of her room, storming toward her daughter. Without a word, she slapped Eun Shin sharply across the cheek.

Eun Shin froze, the sting on her skin barely matching the deeper burn of shame in her chest. But she didn’t cry.

Jim Yae gasped and instinctively moved to shield Eun Shin.

“Madam, please—”

“When does a servant of this house disrespect their master?” Lim Rin snapped, eyes blazing. “I’m teaching my daughter a lesson.”

Eun Shin trembled, guessing the source of her mother’s fury was not her skipping school or tutoring today. No—this was about Jae Vin and his family.

“Mother…” she whispered. Lim Rin’s glare was icy, full of exasperation at raising a daughter so unlike herself.

“How dare you skip school today? You think that because you’re your father’s daughter, you don’t have to attend? Your father stood up for your education, and the very next day you defy him?” Lim Rin’s voice cracked with anger.

Eun Shin lowered her head, bowing obediently, her heart pounding with a mix of hurt and resolve.

“If that’s your worry, Mother, then rest assured—you don’t need to be,” Eun Shin said quietly, meeting her mother’s eyes.

Lim Rin scoffed, looking away before fixing her gaze back on Eun Shin.

“You will go to Jae Vin’s house and apologize for your behavior.”

Eun Shin’s hands clenched tightly at her sides.

“No. I’ve already told him about the dinner on Saturday. I don’t have to apologize.”

Lim Rin’s hand shot up again. But before it landed, Yung Ji appeared in the doorway, eyes wide at the raised hand.

“How dare you raise your hand to our daughter?!” he roared, his voice echoing through the room.

“Yeobo!” Lim Rin snapped back, furious. Yung Ji’s expression hardened—he wanted no more violence.

“Eun Shin, to your room. Now!”

Eun Shin nodded silently and stormed away, slamming the door behind her, praying it would end there.

But the muffled voices from outside her door told her otherwise.

“You pushed her so hard about education, and look—she skipped school. What now? What are you going to do about this? She doesn’t even care—”

“Stop. If she didn’t care, she’d be failing. Eun Shin is top of her class. There’s no need to lose your temper over one day—”

“Yeobo! She definitely doesn’t care! Stop defending her!” Lim Rin screamed.

Yung Ji pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to stay calm.

Eun Shin frowned, quickly grabbing her headphones and pressing them over her ears to drown out the argument.

About thirty minutes later, Lim Rin’s voice finally faded. Yung Ji quietly approached Eun Shin’s room and knocked softly before opening the door a crack to peek inside. Eun Shin glanced up but didn’t smile.

Yung Ji returned a gentle smile and stepped fully inside, setting his work bag on the floor with a sigh.

“Yes?” Eun Shin asked slowly, removing her headphones.

“Your mother needs some time,” Yung Ji began, his voice calm. “Do you want to tell me why you skipped class today?”

Eun Shin’s gaze dropped, her mind wrestling with whether to confess the truth about Jae Vin or reveal her feelings. Yung Ji waited patiently, giving her the space she needed.

After a long breath, she met his eyes again. “That transfer student… he was being bullied. I didn’t like seeing it. So I helped him,” she murmured.

Yung Ji paused, then smiled softly at her. Despite everything, she still looked out for others. Like father, like daughter. He knelt beside her, meeting her face with quiet pride.

“Eun Shin…” he said gently. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to stay composed.

“Yes?”

“You made a brave choice to protect someone you cared about. Don’t let anyone tell you that was wrong,” he said.

Her breath hitched, and the tears spilled freely down her cheeks. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate hug.

“I’m sorry… for skipping school today. It won’t happen again. I promise,” she sobbed.

Yung Ji nodded, stroking her back soothingly.

“It’s okay. You did nothing wrong. You did what only a kind heart would do,” he reassured her softly.

When their conversation ended, Yung Ji returned to his study to finish his paperwork. Lim Rin, however, was gone. Eun Shin knew where—either out buying something new for Saturday’s dinner or meeting the other wealthy mothers at their usual club.

Eun Shin didn’t mind. For once, the house was finally quiet.

Meanwhile, Jae Vin sat on the couch at home, eyes glued to his phone. His mother, Lee Seum Tae, suddenly entered the room. Without a word, she lifted her purse, signaling for the servant to take it, then settled into a chair, her gaze sharp and unyielding.

“So, what’s the status on the dinner plan?” she asked, her tone sharp but expectant.

Jae Vin groaned, not looking up immediately.

“Ma, she said Saturday. Let’s just book a place that’ll impress them,” he replied with a forced smile.

Seum Tae smirked, relief flickering across her face.

“Good. And no room for mistakes,” she warned.

He nodded firmly, standing and heading to his room. But as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, his smile vanished. His eyes locked back onto the phone screen, anxiety tightening his chest.

“Fuck. He better show up Saturday. That’s all my mother cares about,” he muttered under his breath.

His thoughts spiraled between two extremes—either he’d be harshly scolded for any slip-up, or granted a rare, fleeting moment of approval. Neither option felt truly satisfying.

Meanwhile, Eun Shin knew her father wouldn’t attend. Why would he? He’d never cared for these forced family alliances, especially ones driven by the kind of madness her mother thrived on.

Saturday loomed closer, and Eun Shin found herself dreading the weekend more than ever.

SATURDAY THAT WEEK

Eun Shin dressed more conservatively than her mother preferred, but they left together without Yung Ji. Once seated, Eun Shin discreetly glanced at her phone and messaged Seok Jun about the location. Lim Rin scoffed impatiently as she waited.

“Those bastards think they’re high and mighty, making us wait,” she muttered under her breath.

Eun Shin sighed quietly, surveying the dining room. The ostentatious attempt to flaunt their wealth grated on her nerves. Lim Rin’s sharp glance flicked toward her.

“You better be a good daughter. If you say anything to disrupt this, you’ll regret it when we get home.”

Moments later, the Lee family entered. Jae Vin appeared first, followed by his mother and father. Lee Jun Jae slid into the seat to Eun Shin’s left, leaning in slightly, his cold, calculating eyes lingering too long. His unblinking gaze traced her features, as if silently appraising her worth—pressing against her skin like a weight she couldn’t shake.

Jae Vin sat across from her, offering a practiced smile that Eun Shin refused to return. Instead, her fingers tightened around her glass, her body stiffening involuntarily. The suffocating air thickened as Lee Jun Jae’s gaze remained fixed on her—not innocent curiosity, but something darker, more possessive.

“Aigoo, you made it on time,” Lim Rin said with a forced smile, standing to reach out her hand. Seum Tae smiled as she sat down.

“Where’s your husband?” Seum Tae asked instantly. Lim Rin laughed nervously.

“My husband… Aigoo, he said he’ll come later. He had some things to do,” she brushed off the question.

Seum Tae scoffed softly, then turned her gaze to Eun Shin, who tensed.

“Could this be your daughter, Park Eun Shin?” she asked, her interest piqued. Lim Rin’s laugh grew overly enthusiastic as she nodded rapidly.

“Yes, yes! She’s the beautiful daughter I’ve told you about. So smart, too. I didn’t expect her to be dating your son,” Lim Rin gushed, as if trying too hard to smooth over the awkwardness.

Seum Tae laughed along, but neither woman truly acknowledged Eun Shin.

Time seemed to freeze around Eun Shin, her body stiffening with discomfort… trapped in a tiger’s den.

“Yes, your daughter is quite a painting. She has become as beautiful as her mother,” Jun Jae said, sipping his wine, eyes fixed coldly on Eun Shin.

The words struck like ice. Lim Rin laughed obliviously.

“Thank you, thank you. I know she got her beauty from me,” she replied, patting her hair with a proud smile.

Eun Shin’s stomach twisted at the hidden meaning behind Jun Jae’s words. She clenched her fists beneath the table, trembling—not only from fear, but from the violation of being appraised like property.

What a disgusting old man. Father would never want them as in-laws.

Eun Shin remained silent as their voices blurred around her. She was clearly uncomfortable with the Lee family, and even her own mother. Their endless chatter revolved around marriage prospects and college plans. Jae Vin basked in it, his entitlement swelling as he envisioned his future as the heir to his father’s company.

For Eun Shin, it meant nothing. They cared only about the outcome, not the person at the center of it all.

Suddenly, a knock at the door silenced the room. All eyes turned expectantly. Jae Vin smiled slowly, as if already knowing who it would be. Yung Ji?

The door opened—

Seok Jun.