Chapter 99

Among Hyunji’s contacts, there was only one person who seemed to be around her age. I tapped it open. In her gallery was a picture of a girl smiling brightly with what looked like her parents, a cake reading “Congratulations on your new job, our proud daughter.”

At first glance, the conversation looked normal. The sporadic exchanges from a few years back began with the other person’s concern.

But the further I scrolled, the more I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“So you laughed at me like that…”

Your life is just as ruined as mine.

You sneered, asking why I was so foolishly clinging to hopeless things, when I should’ve just given up early.

Yet you, too, couldn’t give up on anything.

Hyunji had struggled desperately not to lose to this girl, not to seem pathetic. Like a bird fluffing up its feathers to look bigger, she had put on a pitiful show of pride.

Her parents had died in an accident, but they’d had insurance, so she’d received a large payout.
They had fought to save her until the end, allowing her to survive.
Thanks to her parents’ love, she was alive.
The house had been old, the winter nights dry; the police called it an accident. The house was gone, so she wanted to move into this girl’s neighborhood after discharge.
She still had to take the college entrance exams, so she studied in her hospital room. Her mock test scores were the same as before—better, even.

After receiving the terminal diagnosis, Hyunji hadn’t responded to this girl anymore, perhaps because she couldn’t stand the thought of being pitied by her.

I opened the keyboard and typed out a short letter.

“I’m going to die soon. They said I’m dying. Terminal cancer.”
“Why do I have to be the only one suffering?”
“You were lucky, born rich, living well without effort. Why only me?”
“What did I do worse than you that I deserve this?”
“I worked harder, I studied better, I could’ve done so much more.”
“If I were you, I’d have done far better. Why do I have to die while you live easily?”
“It would’ve been better not to have such shitty parents.”
“So I got rid of them. Yet I still have to die?”
“This can’t be real.”

It was a note Hyunji had left in her memo app. Sending her rawest thoughts to the one person she least wanted to reveal them to—that was my small kindness. Hadn’t she done the same to me?

“You should’ve been honest and wise, Hyunji. People don’t care about your grievances.”

No one cares how unfair or unjust your suffering is.

That’s how the world works.

Until the moment our lives switched, Hyunji and I hadn’t been so different. I, too, was consumed with resentment and anger, unable to bear why only I had to be unhappy, why the world was so unfair to me. We both longed for someone—anyone—to understand, and the loneliness of not being loved by anyone was unbearable.

Yes, you were right. I was foolish, stupid, childish.

I must have thought that if I cried, someone would finally see me.

Hyunji had written dozens of lines in that memo:

Her drunken mother collapsed, covered in blood.
Her father’s red fists.
Holding her breath through the cold winter nights, waiting for him to fall asleep.
The raw ache in her throat from screaming.
The freezing concrete under her bare feet as she ran outside clutching her father’s ashtray.
The thrill of striking the match.

She wrote that if she’d fled sooner, she might have avoided the burns—but then she might have been suspected, so she had no choice.

The fire insurance had already paid out. I didn’t know exactly how she’d hidden the arson, but both parents had still been alive when the fire broke out.

She must have dreamt of their hands grabbing her ankles inside the burning house. Only then did I understand the source of those nightly, agonizing visions.

Even as I read her vivid accounts of how she had nearly died, how painful and wretched it had been, all I could do was sneer.

Whatever. Not my problem.

To me, Hyunji was a thief, a target for revenge—not someone to understand or pity.

That role belongs to some sentimental bystander, not me.

And setting the fire, burning her parents alive—her crime didn’t vanish.

I considered reporting the arson to the police. As “her,” I could testify. But the incident was already four years old. By the time the case was investigated and judged, Hyunji’s body might not even still be alive. I didn’t have that much time either.

Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a nurse entered.

“Miss Hyunji, do you feel up to eating?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I’ll eat.”
“Oh my, your face looks so much better. See? You look so pretty when you smile.”
“Thank you.”
“Here, these are your meds after lunch…”
“Um, I was wondering… could I go out for a little while?”
“Go out? By yourself?”
“Would that be… too difficult?”
“Well, we’d have to check with your doctor. It’d be better if you had a guardian.”
“A guardian…”

I lowered my gaze, feigning troubled silence. Seeing “me” look so pitiful, the older nurse’s expression softened.

“What if you don’t have anyone who can act as a guardian?”
“Then maybe a close friend or acquaintance? Even if not a relative?”
“…No one…”

The nurse frowned in concern, then after some thought suggested,

“Do you remember Miss Yura? The trainee who worked here until last month?”
“Oh, yes. I know her. I remember.”
“Shall I contact her and ask if she can help?”
“Would you, please?”

Thank goodness. I’d wanted to thank her anyway.

And if she could help me, I’d be able to handle my tasks more smoothly. I smiled brightly and said I’d be very grateful. The nurse blinked in surprise, tilting her head.

“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. I must be seeing things, I’m so tired already.”
“Then you should rest.”
“Oh no, I just got here. I’m fine. Really—it’s just that you look so different now, Miss Hyunji.”

The nurse gave me a friendly smile, shaking her head.

“It’s still your face, but… you look like a different person.”
“I don’t quite understand…”
“See? Even the way you speak, your expressions—they’re different. Like someone else.”
“…”
“For a moment, I thought I saw another beautiful face over yours. Not that you’re not beautiful yourself, of course.”
“Oh…”
“Please don’t misunderstand. We all know you’re pretty.”
“I don’t misunderstand. Don’t worry.”
“I really should learn how to speak as gracefully as you.”

For the nurse, my calmness alone must have been a relief. After five months of me lying catatonic, I had suddenly spent a week foaming at the mouth, demanding meds or I’d die—like a lunatic. So just being quiet now earned me goodwill.

Sitting alone again in the room, I murmured softly,

“Just like you said, I’ll try to act wisely too, Hyunji.”

Hyunji had dreamed of a long life.

Of a life befitting someone intelligent, not chained to vile parents.

She had envied the friend beside her—the clean face, gentle manner, upright posture.

She had believed that, being smarter than that friend, she deserved better—and would seize it herself.

She wanted to live a shining life, overcoming tragedy, with the insurance money from parents who “loved their daughter despite being poor.”

Even with a terminal diagnosis, this world didn’t let her die easily.

But that was only because there was money.

Mari hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye.

This place is far too generous for you.