Chapter 19: Shadows From Home
The morning sun filtered through cream-colored curtains, dust particles floating in the soft golden light. Yeri sat on the window ledge, her knees pulled to her chest, a blanket draped over her shoulders. The mansion was quiet, unusually so. Even the maids spoke in hushed tones these days.
Healing, it seemed, came with silence.
She took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes.
Then the doorbell rang.
It echoed through the house like thunder.
Yeri opened her eyes, unsettled. No one visited them without notice. Not anymore.
From downstairs, she heard the butler's footsteps, followed by a long pause. Then soft knocking on her door.
She opened it to find one of the younger maids holding a sealed envelope.
"This came for you," she said quietly. "Delivered by hand."
Yeri stared at the envelope. No name. No return address. Just a single wax seal she hadn't seen in years.
A crescent moon.
Her breath caught.
She took the letter slowly, almost afraid it might burn her fingers.
---
Yunjun found her an hour later, sitting on the bed with the letter in her lap. Her tea had gone cold.
He took one look at her and knew something was wrong.
"What is it?"
She didn't look up. "It's from them."
"Who?"
She finally raised her eyes to his, her voice hollow. "My family."
---
Yeri hadn't spoken much about her family. Bits and pieces, yes. A strict father. A mother too scared to leave. An older brother who vanished when she was fifteen. But never details. Never names.
Until now.
"I thought they forgot me," she said quietly, sitting across from Yunjun in the study. "I thought I didn't matter to them."
He listened silently.
"They sent me away after… after I told the truth about what happened. My father said I was bringing shame. That I should disappear. So I did."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Yunjun leaned forward. "What do they want now?"
She handed him the letter.
It was neatly written, as if someone had weighed every word carefully.
> *Yeri,*
> *We were wrong.*
> *Your brother is dying. He asked for you.*
> *Come home.*
Yunjun exhaled. "You don't have to go."
"I know," she said. "But I think I want to."
He looked at her in disbelief. "Why?"
She swallowed hard. "Because he was the only one who tried to protect me. Because I need to see it with my own eyes—whether I can forgive them or walk away knowing I don't owe them anything anymore."
Silence stretched between them.
Yunjun finally said, "Then I'm coming with you."
---
The drive was long. The roads twisted like old memories, and the sky turned gray as if mourning what lay ahead.
They passed through towns Yeri hadn't seen in years—small shops, familiar alleyways, old parks that had once felt like safety and escape.
Her hands trembled as they entered the long driveway of her childhood home.
It was the same house. The same white paint, now peeling. The same iron gates. The same silence pressing against the windows.
But something felt colder now.
"Are you ready?" Yunjun asked, placing his hand on hers.
"No," she said honestly. "But I'm here."
---
Her mother opened the door.
Older. Smaller. The same tired eyes.
"Yeri," she whispered like it was a prayer.
Yeri didn't move.
They stood like that for a long time.
Finally, her mother stepped aside.
"Come in."
Yunjun followed closely, his presence a silent support behind her.
The house smelled of jasmine and antiseptic. Her brother's room was down the hall, where the light barely touched. Machines beeped softly inside.
He looked thinner. Weaker. His skin was pale. But when he saw her, his lips curved faintly.
"Took you long enough," he rasped.
Yeri's eyes filled. "You always were stubborn."
He chuckled, then coughed, wincing. "I missed you, little sis."
"I missed you too."
They didn't talk about what happened. Not directly.
Not yet.
---
Her father didn't come out of his study all day.
Yeri could feel him behind the door. Just like when she was sixteen, crying outside after the truth came out. He never opened it then either.
That night, she stood outside that door again, memories pressing into her like bruises.
Yunjun joined her, leaning against the wall.
"You don't owe him anything," he said.
"I know. But I want him to look me in the eyes and admit it. Even if it's just once."
"You think he will?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. But I need to know I tried."
---
The next morning, she found her father sitting alone in the garden. The same bench he always occupied with his newspaper. His back was straight, pride intact even in silence.
Yeri stood in front of him.
He didn't look at her.
"You called me a disgrace," she said. "You told me to leave."
Still, he said nothing.
"I was a child, and you abandoned me."
Finally, he spoke. "You chose to defy this family."
"I chose the truth."
He looked up at her then, his eyes cold. "And what did the truth bring you? Pain? Shame?"
Yeri's voice trembled but stayed strong. "It brought me freedom. Even if it broke me."
A pause.
"I came because my brother asked. Not for you."
She turned to walk away.
Then—quietly—he said, "You always had her fire."
Yeri stopped.
He didn't say more.
But it was the closest thing to an apology she would ever get.
And strangely… it was enough.
---
Before they left, her brother squeezed her hand.
"I'm glad you found someone like him," he said, nodding at Yunjun who stood near the door.
"I didn't find him," she said softly. "He found me when I was at my worst."
"Then don't let go."
"I won't."
He smiled faintly. "Promise me one thing?"
"Anything."
"Live like none of this broke you."
She nodded, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
---
They left before the afternoon faded. Yeri didn't look back at the house.
She didn't need to.
It was no longer home.
Her home sat beside her in the car, one hand resting over hers.
They drove until the city lights returned, until the skyline unfolded like a familiar lullaby.
Yeri breathed in deeply.
It felt lighter now.
Like some invisible weight had been lifted.
She turned to Yunjun. "Thank you for coming with me."
He smiled. "Always."
She reached for his hand. "I'm ready now."
"For what?"
"For whatever comes next."
To be continued.....
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