ITSN 12

Chapter 12

Joo-hong’s burial site was the Catholic columbarium in Heukseok-dong.

Among the eighteen victims whose funeral services were held today, hers had the fewest mourners—so few, in fact, that not even a 25-seater bus was filled.

Yoo Hae-in sat right at the front.

Since it was a personal matter, Tae-jo hadn’t brought a driver and was at the wheel himself. When the bus stopped at a red light, he pulled his car alongside and quietly observed Hae-in.

Her small head tilted as she kept talking non-stop to the nun seated next to her.

What was that arrogant woman chattering about?

Strangely, he found himself curious.

The nun sitting beside her was the same one who had cried throughout the funeral and at the crematorium. She was acting as the chief mourner, since Joo-hong had no family. She was even clutching Joo-hong’s urn tightly to her chest now.

And yet there was Hae-in, sitting right beside her, seemingly offering comfort. Was that really Yoo Hae-in? The more he watched, the more doubts crept in.

“She almost died and came back… did she really become a different person?”

Tae-jo’s muttering drew a response from Chief Yeom in the passenger seat.

“Your ex-fiancée, you mean.”

At some point, Yeom’s gaze too had settled on Hae-in.

“It’s uncanny.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

A faint smile tugged at Yeom’s lips as he watched her.

“The way she’s clinging to the nun—it looks exactly like Hong.”

Yeom had attended the same church as Joo-rok and Joo-hong, the siblings. He had known them since they were very young.

Especially Joo-hong, whom he had cared for dearly—hence why, despite his busy schedule, he had accompanied her funeral rites.

Still. How dare he compare her to Hong.

“That nun is pretty strict, you see? Everyone was intimidated by her, except Hong. She alone adored the nun, always stuck to her side, chattering away just like that.”

At Yeom’s words, Tae-jo thought of Joo-hong again.

Yes, Joo-hong had been like that—

Warm and affectionate to everyone, like a gentle early-summer breeze.

Sometimes a little prim, but then soon enough smiling brightly, like golden sunlight breaking through.

To compare Yoo Hae-in to her… his brows knit in reflexive displeasure. And yet, something still puzzled him.

Hae-in, behaving affectionately toward someone, was strange enough. But her late parents had been devout Buddhists—so why was she sitting so naturally beside a Catholic nun? It was not just odd; it was alien.

Had she converted on her own?

Then… had she been going to that church all along, and met Chief Yeom there?

“Do you really not know her?”

Still suspicious, Tae-jo pressed Yeom once more.

“You’ve never met her before today?”

“I told you, no. Never.”

Irritation flickered across Yeom’s face at the repeated questioning.

“How many times do I have to say it? Today’s the first time.”

He stressed the word first, backing it up logically:

“Besides, I couldn’t see before, remember? Even if I had met her, how could I recognize her face?”

It wasn’t just the blindness—she’d also lost her memories. And yet she behaved as though she knew him. That was what made it suspicious.

And then there was this: why follow all the way to the columbarium? The funeral service was one thing, but there was no reason for her to come this far.

‘Could she have figured out Joo-hong was Rok’s sister?’

Did she feel guilty, thinking Rok died because of her? Now, after all this time?

‘Or does she have some other scheme?’

If that were the case, then all this talk of memory loss was a lie.

‘Why? For what purpose?’

At that moment, the bus reached the columbarium. Tae-jo quickly parked his car.

The nun alighted first, followed by Hae-in.

Inside the columbarium, other mourners—those who hadn’t been able to make it to the crematorium—were already gathered.

They seemed to be from the same church, warmly greeting the nun. And trailing right behind, Hae-in slipped seamlessly into the group, bowing and greeting everyone politely, even to strangers.

Still wearing her sunglasses, she managed to seem both courteous and warm.

The way she carried herself—it was almost as if her very soul had been swapped out. Tae-jo nearly laughed in disbelief.

“Seo Tae-jo.”

Chief Yeom came over then.

“Got a call from the director.”

A faint crease formed on Yeom’s nose bridge, betraying his concern.

“Looks like we’ll be pulled into this case after all.”

“The <Ino Training Institute> incident?”

“Yeah.”

“So it wasn’t a gas explosion. It really was a bombing.”

Tae-jo raised one eyebrow.

“Yes. Internally, we’d already suspected it. It happened when both the investigating detective and the informant—who claimed to have heard the culprit’s voice—were present.”

So it was a silencing attempt?

But if silencing the informant was the goal, they could have just killed Hae-in alone. Why orchestrate such a noisy, dramatic attack?

“It was a warning, wasn’t it.”

A warning to stay out of it.

“Exactly. Which means things are about to get very messy.”

Clearly, they couldn’t just leave this in the hands of the police anymore.

“I’ll just stay for the start of the enshrinement. The director ordered me back to headquarters right after.”

Checking his watch, Yeom glanced at Tae-jo.

“So… want to come with me? It’s been a while since you had company food.”

“No thanks.”

“Come on.”

Whining like a sulking child, Yeom tugged at Tae-jo’s sleeve.

“Just come with me.”

“Don’t cling to a retired employee, sir.”

Tae-jo shook him off firmly. Yeom’s eyes sharpened immediately.

“Your fiancée is involved, you know.”

Which was exactly why he wouldn’t go.

“Ex-fiancée.”

He had no desire to get involved in anything concerning Yoo Hae-in.

“I don’t care in the slightest what happens to my ex-fiancée—whether she gets torn apart in this mess or not.”

“You heartless bastard.”

Cursing under his breath, Yeom stomped into the chapel where the enshrinement service was beginning.

Trailing after him, Tae-jo scanned the room—and frowned.

“…What?”

Hae-in was nowhere near the nun.

She’d clung to her side like glue earlier, yet at the start of the service she was gone?

See? He knew something was off.

Turning sharply on his heel, Tae-jo strode down the long corridor in search of her.

She hadn’t entered from the back and left that way, so she must have slipped out the front, along this hall.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped.

Inside the quiet columbarium, all wood and solemn stillness—

There she was. Yoo Hae-in. Dressed all in black, sitting curled up, small and solitary.

Her knees hugged tight to her chest, her face buried against them, shoulders trembling.

Was she… crying?

Yoo Hae-in?

That couldn’t be possible… could it?

But then she lifted her head.

Her skin was so pale that even from afar, he could see how swollen her eyes were, how red and raw from tears.

Red-rimmed lids, a flushed nose, tear-streaked cheeks.

“Hhh… hhk.”

Even her quiet sobs carried across.

…Yoo Hae-in was truly crying.