“Ugh, is this the right place?”

Soo-hyun peered out the taxi window. All he could see was pitch-black darkness. The taxi driver made a face of disgust and prepared to turn back immediately. Soo-hyun took several 50,000 won bills from his wallet and handed them to the driver.

“Thank you.”

“Will you be okay?”

Soo-hyun forced a smile. The moment he stepped out, the car headed back the way it came. Left alone in the darkness, regret washed over him. I should have come during the day. He had snuck out of the dormitory on impulse, but how would he get back? This was always the problem—acting first, thinking later.

Since he was already here, he intended to go in and check. He pulled his cap down low, covered his face with a mask, and took out a flashlight from his backpack. Crunch, crunch. With each step forward, the sound of gravel underfoot felt eerie.

When he shined the light at the entrance, he saw the words “Hansol Memorial Park,” and as expected, the gate was firmly locked.

Soo-hyun tucked the flashlight into his back pocket and stepped back decisively. He spat on his hands, ran quickly, and grabbed the wall, instantly climbing over to the other side. With a thud, he landed and surveyed his surroundings before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Whew, still alive.”

But from the building he thought would be empty, a faint light and human figure appeared. Afraid of being caught, he crouched low and crossed the yard toward what he assumed was the columbarium.

Once inside, he saw urns in each compartment as expected. Behind the protective glass of each niche were family photos, belongings of the deceased, letters, and flowers.

As he looked around slowly, he couldn’t find his mother’s name anywhere. Was his intuition wrong? While confused, a photo suddenly caught his eye.

Soo-hyun moved closer and shined his light on it. His pupils dilated dramatically at what he saw.

It was a photo of his father, Baek Gwang-mu, holding a small child. In the faded picture, Gwang-mu was smiling brightly, looking like a different person.

Soo-hyun’s throat tightened. Slowly, he moved the light upward. A white urn appeared, and with it, a familiar name.

Kim Soon-jung.

Tears welled up instantly.

She really did die.

Reading the date of death, he unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut and slumped to the floor. It was that day. The day he ran away. She really died that day. He had no idea how Baek Gwang-mu had managed to retrieve her body. But what was certain was that his mother was no longer in this world.

Soo-hyun buried his face between his knees, overwhelmed with grief. The otherwise silent columbarium filled with the sound of his stifled sobs. From somewhere came the sound of footsteps—thud, thud. Soo-hyun remained motionless with his head buried. A moment later, light poured over him.

“Who’s there?”

Soo-hyun looked up. He wiped the tears from his face and stood as a man appeared with a light. Simultaneously, the lights switched on, illuminating the columbarium like daylight.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

The shouting man looked ready to pull out the baton at his waist if necessary. Normally, Soo-hyun would have bolted, but he didn’t even have the energy for that. With a dejected face, he moved his lips.

“I’m sorry… I came to find my mother, but the door was closed…”

“You’re going to cause trouble. That doesn’t mean you can sneak in. We have CCTV everywhere. Come out now.”

Soo-hyun couldn’t move his feet. He remembered the photo in his pocket—the only picture of his mother that Chairman Yang had given him during their proposed deal. As he hesitated, the man approached.

“Come on now. I said come out!”

“I’m sorry, but could I just leave a photo? My mother is Kim Soon-jung. I just want to put this picture inside.”

“For heaven’s sake! You should do that during the day. Coming at this hour—”

The man stopped mid-sentence, came closer, and examined Soo-hyun’s face under his cap.

“Are you… Brother Gwang-mu’s son?”

The stranger suddenly mentioned his father’s name. Surprised, Soo-hyun looked up, and the man asked again.

“Is your father Baek Gwang-mu?”

When Soo-hyun lowered his mask, the man’s hostile expression changed. “Oh my goodness. What a surprise.”

“Kid, don’t you recognize me? Uncle Deok-man.”

Soo-hyun had no recollection of him. The man clicked his tongue.

“Well, I guess that makes sense. I saw you when you were little. It would be strange if you remembered. I’m your father’s great-uncle’s… ah, never mind. We’re sixteenth cousins.”

Soo-hyun had heard of fourth and eighth cousins, but what was a sixteenth cousin? Legally, anyone beyond eighth cousins was considered unrelated. Not knowing what to say, he stood awkwardly until the man sighed.

“I was wondering why your father, who used to visit regularly, didn’t come this year. I thought something might have happened to him, and here you are instead.”

“…”

“How is your father doing?”

“He’s sick…”

“What’s wrong?”

“He was in a car accident…”

“Oh dear. He should’ve been more careful. Was he badly injured?”

Soo-hyun didn’t answer. The man sighed deeply, then asked about the photo Soo-hyun had mentioned earlier.

Soo-hyun took out his wallet and showed him a picture. The man held it at a distance, squinting, perhaps due to farsightedness.

“That’s definitely your mother… It’s been so long, her face is a blur in my memory.”

It felt strange to meet someone who knew his mother. The man now looked at Soo-hyun.

“Come to think of it, you’re the spitting image of your mother. The eyes and the shape of your lips.”

“…”

After contemplating for a moment, the man seemed to make a decision.

“Wait here a bit. I’ll open it for you.”

Soo-hyun glanced at the CCTV mounted on the ceiling. The man chuckled. “That’s fake. Just for show.” Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness. Soo-hyun exhaled in relief and stood in front of the urn.

While others had various personal belongings displayed, his mother’s niche contained only a single photo with his father.

His throat felt tight. As he stared at the photo of his mother in his hand, the man reappeared.

The man unscrewed bolts at the corner and removed the glass with a compression tool. The urn was now exposed, and Soo-hyun wanted to place his mother’s photo beside the picture of his father and himself.

But a paper photo couldn’t stand properly. The man watching from the side made a sympathetic face.

“Hold on. I’ll bring you an empty frame from the office.”

“Thank you.” Soo-hyun bowed, and the man disappeared again. Left alone, Soo-hyun reached out and touched his mother’s name inscribed on the urn. Tears welled up. As he clenched his teeth, trying not to cry, he recalled his conversation with Yang Ho-beom.

[“Tell me what that man stole.”]

[“Ask him yourself. Better yet, find out where he hid it.”]

Soo-hyun turned his gaze toward the columbarium entrance. The man hadn’t returned yet, presumably still looking for a frame. According to him, the CCTV on the ceiling was useless. After some hesitation, Soo-hyun pulled the urn out. He twisted open the lid to find another lid inside. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he opened it.

For a moment, it felt like his breathing stopped.

There were no ashes.

Instead, something was wrapped in newspaper. Confused, Soo-hyun reached into the urn. What he touched was quite heavy. He took it out, put it in his bag, and placed the urn back just before the man returned, carrying a frame for the photo.

“Here you go. This should be enough, right?”

Hiding his complex emotions, Soo-hyun accepted the frame. “Thank you.” While he inserted the photo, the man shared information Soo-hyun didn’t know. Baek Gwang-mu had first come here over ten years ago. He thought it strange that the son never visited.

Soo-hyun pondered. If the newspaper-wrapped object belonged to Chairman Yang, the timing didn’t match when it was stored here. Then did that mean there were originally ashes?

The man closed the glass, and Soo-hyun stepped back.

“You came from Seoul? It’s a long way back. Want to stay at our lodging for the night?”

“No… I need to get to work in the morning.”

“Alright then. Next time, come during the day. Don’t sneak in at night like a thief and scare people.”

“I’m sorry. I will.”

As he turned to leave, the man grabbed Soo-hyun. Startled, he flinched, but the man just took out his car keys.

“I’d better drive you to town. Transportation around here is terrible.”

He walked toward a blue truck, gesturing for Soo-hyun to follow. During the ride, the man asked about his father’s condition. How badly was he injured? How long would recovery take? He also made sure to ask Soo-hyun to have his father call when he regained consciousness.

After driving for about 30 minutes, they reached town, and Soo-hyun got off near the bus terminal. He thanked the man and tried to give him money, but he firmly refused. After the man left, Soo-hyun entered the terminal, where several people were sitting despite the early hour.

Passing them, he went to the bathroom, chose an empty stall, and unzipped his backpack. The zipper made a sound, and he reached in to pull out the newspaper-wrapped object. Sitting on the toilet, he unwrapped the newspaper. The palm-sized object gradually revealed itself.

“…!”

It was a small Buddha statue. Was this what Baek Gwang-mu had stolen? As he completely removed the newspaper, a black object fell to the floor. Soo-hyun picked it up.

Something could be felt inside the plastic. He opened it and poured the contents into his palm—dozens of rather large cubic zirconia tumbled out.

“What is this…?”

Frowning, he held one up to the fluorescent light. It sparkled brilliantly. At first, he thought they were cubic zirconia, but the more he looked at them—the precision of the cuts, the color…

“No way…”

Just then, someone entered the bathroom. A drunk person, judging by the muttering. Startled, Soo-hyun hastily packed everything into his bag and left the bathroom. His heart pounded like it was being stirred as he walked briskly away. The sparkling objects he had just seen flashed before his eyes.

No way, it couldn’t be… could it?