Side Story Chapter 6

A tense silence settled over the living room.

Serin barged in without so much as a pause and plopped herself down at the table like she owned the place. Yaein simply stared at her in silence.

“Nice place! Did you redo the interior?” 

Serin gushed in a high-pitched, overly enthusiastic tone.

Yaein had made a few changes—little by little—for the baby. The place had gradually filled with more things than before.

“Why are you here?”

Skipping the small talk, Yaein cut straight to the point.

“Do I need a reason to visit my own sister?” 

Serin leaned forward, giving a playful wink that was clearly meant to feign intimacy.

In the past, she would’ve said it with biting sarcasm. Now, the tone was almost pathetic—clingy in a way that didn’t suit her.

“I’m planning a new exhibition.”

“And?”

Yaein wasn’t surprised. The moment Serin showed up, the reason had been obvious.

Serin’s lips twitched—perhaps thrown off by Yaein’s cold, flat response.

“You know our family’s situation better than anyone. You know it best.” 

Serin’s voice sharpened. Realizing it herself, she quickly cleared her throat and forced a smile.

“Mom and Dad aren’t getting out anytime soon. How am I supposed to organize a whole show by myself?”

She was trying to spark some guilt. It almost sounded rehearsed—but it didn’t suit her, not even a little. The pathetic act sat awkwardly on her.

“You’re the only family I have left. You have to help me, right? What happened to our family… It’s partly your fault too, Yaein.”

Even with that desperate jab, Yaein’s expression didn’t waver.

“It’s hard to believe the day would come when you’d ask *me* for help.”

She spoke quietly, like making an observation to herself.

Maybe people really could change. Once upon a time, Serin would’ve never lowered herself like this in front of Yaein.

Had she been humbled, now that their parents—their shelter—were gone? Her once-polished face looked noticeably gaunter.

Yaein sat back, pressing her spine straight against the chair. Her posture was impeccable.

“You’re a respected artist. I’m sure you have connections and skills to rely on. Whatever help I could’ve given—I already gave you a long time ago.”

With each sentence, Serin’s expression twisted more and more. Finally, before Yaein could even finish speaking, she shot up from her seat.

“Hey!”

Her fists, clenched tightly on her knees, had gone pale. Just how much was Serin grinding her teeth right now?

She hadn’t changed. Not really.

If there had been even a shred of remorse in her, she wouldn’t have barged in like this—uninvited, unannounced, and unrepentant.

“I’m not even asking you for money,” Serin snapped. “Just put in a word with your husband. That’s all. Is that so hard?”

“Yes. It is,” Yaein replied flatly.

Serin’s face flushed a blotchy red.

“Why would Taeheon help you?” 

Yaein’s voice was calm, almost eerily so, as she met her sister’s glare head-on.

“My husband works day and night for everything he earns. Why should that money go to you?”

The question was so coolly detached it felt like a slap. It might’ve been less insulting if Yaein had just hurled a curse instead.

Serin’s body jerked. The restraint snapped.

“Where’s the baby again? That room?” 

She started crossing the living room, peering toward the other rooms.

“I have no intention of introducing you to my child.”

“What?! I can’t even see my own nephew? Let me see him!”

Her voice cracked. What had started as whining now screeched, like nails dragged across a chalkboard.

“Sister.”

Yaein sighed, then calmly dialed a number and held out her phone.

“Here. Take it.”

“What?”

“That’s your lawyer.”

“My what? How do you know that?”

Whether she was asking how Yaein knew Serin had a lawyer, or how she had the number—Yaein’s response was already prepared.

“You’re in the middle of a lawsuit. I heard it could even result in jail time.”

Serin’s lips flapped in silent disbelief, like a fish gasping for air.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you, just in case. I figured someone like you might show up one day.”

To cause trouble, was the unsaid implication.

Serin’s mouth twisted with humiliation.

“I have people to protect now. A husband. A child.”

Maybe Serin hadn’t changed, but Yaein had.

She no longer lived in a world where she could just suffer quietly and carry the burden alone. If she broke down now, Taeheon and the baby would suffer too. And she wouldn’t let that happen.

Seeing Serin show up like this—bold and reckless—Yaein had realized something. She needed to put an end to it, properly. So, it wouldn’t happen again.

“The sitter will be here soon, and I have other plans today. I don’t have time for tea with you.”

Serin was still reeling, scrambling for her next move, when Yaein calmly delivered the final blow.

“If you plan to come again, call ahead.”

“You little—”

Serin raised her hand, an old reflex, as if to strike her.

But it stopped in midair.

Yaein didn’t flinch. She didn’t even move. She simply watched.

That unnerving calm, so at odds with Serin’s boiling fury, grated at her. It also scared her.

She had thought that showing up while Taeheon was away, pressuring Yaein directly, might make the younger woman bend like she used to. That she’d cave, offer help—anything.

But Yaein had been cold, unwavering.

Now Serin found herself shrinking instead, unsure of what she could possibly do next.

She was starting to realize: no matter what she did, it wouldn’t work anymore.

Serin didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that she was intimidated by none other than Lee Yaein. She sharpened her gaze instead.

“You only came here because you don’t want to go to jail, right? Unlike Mom and Dad. You’re just trying to pay off your lawyer fees and borrowed money.”

“So, what if that’s true? It’s all your fault anyway! You tore the family apart, and now you’re the only one living well? Is that fair?”

“How is it my fault? The art fraud, the falsified ledgers, the money laundering — your parents did all of that themselves. And they’re the ones who profited from it.”

“You’re calling your own parents ‘they’? Listen to yourself.”

She was grasping at straws. Even Serin knew her time in prison hadn’t been unjust.

“Don’t you know people who have nothing left to lose are the scariest? You think you can treat me like this and still sleep soundly at night?”

Her frantic words turned into incoherent rambling. Yaein sighed.

“No matter how much you hate me or look down on me, you’re not the kind of person who could actually harm me or my child.”

Not because Serin was kind. She was a spoiled rich girl who had lived under her mother’s wing well into her thirties. Even if she harbored wicked thoughts, she had no follow-through. All she could manage was pestering Yaein out of spite.

“Unlike my father-in-law.”

At that, Serin swallowed dryly.

She had met Yaein’s father-in-law once in person, and he’d been every bit as terrifying as the rumors. And look at the state he’s in now. Remembering Kwon Sunghwan’s fall from power, Serin was suddenly reminded of exactly what kind of man Yaein’s husband was.

He’s the one who sent his own father to prison. There were even rumors that it was Taeheon who caused Kwon to lose the use of his leg.

Color drained from Serin’s face.

She had purposely come while Kwon Taeheon was out, but she couldn’t help glancing at the clock now.

The doorbell rang in the distance.

“That must be the sitter.”

Yaein stood from the sofa and walked past Serin without so much as a glance, heading to the door.

Serin watched Yaein’s retreating back in a daze. She’d come here ready to make a scene if things didn’t go her way, but now she just stood there like a fool.

“Are you going to just stand there?”

Yaein’s voice called from the front. Almost without realizing it, Serin walked toward her.

The middle-aged woman standing next to Yaein gave Serin a long, scrutinizing look. Feeling self-conscious about her appearance, Serin quickened her pace.

Once outside the door, she realized how absurd this all was. She hadn’t gotten any money and had let Yaein say whatever she wanted. She’d wasted a whole trip just to leave empty-handed.

Should she ask for cab fare at least? Just as she turned around—

“Goodbye, sister.”

Yaein shut the door.

***

Serin staggered as she walked, her ankles wobbling as if they might give out at any moment.

She’d thought that if she played the part of the desperate sister and scared Yaein a little, she could at least wring some money out of her—enough to get by for now. But Yaein’s response had completely derailed her plan.

Why is she so calm now?

To Serin, Yaein was still the scrawny, underfed middle schooler who had never grown properly. But with her change in attitude, even her appearance seemed different. She no longer looked like someone who flinched at everything—there was nothing fearful about her now.

Meanwhile, Serin herself was standing at the edge of a cliff.

In the past, their household had teetered on the brink more than once thanks to her father’s business failures, but as long as Serin’s credit card still worked, she didn’t care.

Now, both her mother and father were in prison. Things were different. Even relatives who had seemed sympathetic at first quickly turned cold.

She’d even tried to squeeze a few bucks out of people she used to push around—only to get sued in return.

She had to get money out of that damn Lee Yaein somehow. But how?

As she mulled over her options, Serin reached for her front door’s keypad—but stopped.

The door was already open.

Frowning in confusion, Serin stepped inside. The door had an automatic lock, so she couldn’t have left it open by accident. And no one else was supposed to visit her.

The two-room apartment, far smaller than the home she used to live in, had once been described by Serin herself as a rat’s nest for the poor. It was so small; the entire interior was visible from the entrance.

Serin froze.

Just like the front door, the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar.

Through the narrow crack, she could see a pair of feet clad in polished dress shoes. As she hesitated, a large man standing inside pushed the door open.

When it swung fully open, the man sitting in the only chair in the center of the room came into view.

“It’s been a while.”

“Kwon Taeheon…”

The name escaped Serin’s lips before she could stop herself.