At first, I thought I was imagining things.

Ever since I lost Eun-sae, I’d been on edge.

I was overly sensitive to everything, and after going through both Lee Seol-won and Lee Jae-kwang, I had developed the habit of doubting first and asking questions later.

Since misfortune tends to come from the most unexpected places, thanks to Eun-sae, I had learned that no amount of caution is ever really enough.

I had seen with my own eyes how terrible the results can be when misfortune piles up.

Whenever I finished my individual practice, it was always late in the evening.

Dragging my tired legs, I’d walk slowly toward the subway station – and that’s when I saw the SUV.

It was such an ordinary vehicle that at first I passed it without a second thought.

But then I noticed something about the unusually dark tinted windows.

Isn’t tinting that dark illegal?

It was the moment when I stared directly at it out of suspicion – a sudden shiver ran down my spine.

As if I had made eye contact with someone through that pitch-black window.

There’s probably only one driver in there.

Feeling strangely self-conscious, I quickened my pace and walked past the car.

After that, the rest of my walk home was uneventful.

Since it was well after regular business hours, the subway was relatively empty – for Seoul, anyway – and I made it home quietly.

The next day, on my way to work, I saw the same SUV again.

At that moment, I happened to be going through the pile of text messages Lee Jae-kwang had sent me overnight.

—Ah, I see. So you’re just going to cut off contact and run away, huh?
—You really know how to screw people over, Hyun Eun-sae. You’ve grown up, haven’t you?
—Not answering my calls?
—But I know you’re still reading all my messages.
—Eun-sae, you f*cking b*tch. How long do you think you can keep ignoring me like this, not picking up the phone?
—If I catch you, I’ll tear you apart, starting right there.

Judging by the way he spoke alone, it would be hard to find a more despicable person – yet it was clear that he was someone bound by the structure of a corporate life.

He was relatively quiet during working hours, but at dawn he’d go on a rampage like this.

At first, I lost sleep at night reading his messages in real time.

But now that I’ve gotten used to Lee Jae-kwang’s verbal abuse, I’ve settled back into my routine.

No matter what he said, I’d come to understand that it was all just empty, hateful noise.

He didn’t even know how to change his tactics.

And another thing – even though he was throwing fits behind the scenes, he was still a third-generation chaebol with countless eyes watching his every move, and for whom public image was immensely important.

So, unlike the violent men who make the news for breaking into women’s homes, he couldn’t break into mine recklessly.

What a lunatic, I muttered to myself, casually looking up to look ahead.

‘That car is in our neighborhood too?’

It was that SUV again – the one with the heavily tinted windows.

Normally, I would have dismissed it as a coincidence and kept walking.

But it had shown up right after I’d finished reading one of his messages.

Something just didn’t add up.

If I let my mind wander to a dangerous possibility here… would it be too much of a leap?

I looked down again at the string of nasty messages on my phone.

It made me wonder.

How many days would a twisted man like Lee Jae-kwang tolerate being deliberately ignored, knowing that I would read everything but give no reply?

‘..Maybe it’s just a similar looking beat up car by chance.’

I should have paid more attention to the license plate yesterday.

Chewing on that uneasy feeling, I suddenly changed direction and headed for the bus stop.

It meant doubling back on my route, but if I could figure out the SUV’s intentions, the effort wouldn’t be a waste of time.

As I sat on the bench at the bus stop waiting for the bus, the SUV circled around me and disappeared.

But as I boarded the bus and leaned against the window, looking discreetly to the rear, I saw that the SUV was following us.

Or at least it was – until it soon disappeared from view.

By the time I reached my destination and got off the bus, there was no sign of it at all.

Everything was so ambiguous.

At that point, it felt like maybe our routes just happened to cross… or maybe not.

What made it even more confusing was that I wasn’t really going anywhere out of the ordinary.

Our orchestra rented space in a large business district surrounded by cram schools, clinics, and every kind of business imaginable.

It was an area that naturally had a lot of foot traffic.

Even my colleagues would often run into people they knew on their way to work or during lunch, and they would always say the same thing afterwards:

For a city that seems so big, Seoul really feels small.

Right, I had to consider all the possibilities.

After carefully examining my surroundings, I finally made my way to the orchestra’s rehearsal room.

And on my way home, I saw the SUV again.

It was just two days before our out-of-town performance.

Why was the same car I had seen that morning still in the neighborhood at night?

A chill ran down my spine.

I stood frozen, staring at the dark vehicle, when a colleague who had finished practice at the same time walked by and stopped their car.

“Seo-hae, I have to go to my parents’ house to pick up a suitcase and I’ll pass by your house. I can drop you off on the way.”

“Oh, Kyujin.”

The old me would have worried about putting someone out of their way and politely declined, but right now I didn’t have the luxury of being considerate.

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

I didn’t even have the courtesy to ask again if it was okay-I just got in the car.

Being with someone I knew made me feel much more comfortable.

To show that I wasn’t alone, that I was with someone – that alone gave me a sense of relief.

He wouldn’t try anything if I was with someone, would he?

Or if someone suspicious approached me, Kyujin would probably report it to the police for me – that kind of comfort.

“You can just drop me off somewhere nearby.”

I gestured towards the next subway station after I had made sure that no car was following us anymore.

“Come on, it’s not that far. And your house isn’t exactly near the subway station – just let me take you all the way.”

Luckily, Kyujin didn’t mind at all, even taking the trouble to drive into the narrow alleys of my neighborhood.

Thanks to him, I made it home safely – but I couldn’t count on getting rides like that every day.

What was I going to do?

Considering that the SUV had been circling both my home and my workplace, it was safe to assume that my routine had already been completely figured out.

As for work, I’d already decided to quit after this upcoming out-of-town gig, so that was manageable.

But the idea of a car stalking my neighborhood morning and night… That made home feel anything but safe.

The three-room villa I was living in now was the first place I had moved into on my own as an adult.

Although the room was small and the building was a bit old, the interior had been renovated, so it was neat and clean.

By a stroke of luck, I had managed to rent it at a price well below market value.

The landlords, a kind and easy-going couple, had let me stay all this time without increasing the deposit.

They understood my situation and said, “A young woman just starting out in the world-how much money can she have? Don’t worry about the house. Just do well and move on when you’re ready.”

Whenever Eun-sae came to visit, the small house was immediately filled with life and noise.

She usually stayed in the small room I had set aside for guests, but sometimes she would come into my bedroom and say, “It’s been a while, let’s sleep together,” and crawl into bed next to me.

Even the smallest memories are still memories, I guess.

Now that I was seriously considering leaving all this behind, a deep emptiness began to well up inside me.

I never imagined-even in my dreams-that my life in Korea would end like this.

Overnight, I’d become adrift, like duckweed with nowhere to go.

The me who once dreamed of settling down and living happily in Seoul now felt like a fantasy.

And I missed Eun-sae.

I still think about her – about her tragic, heartbreaking death.

Even though I know that longing for someone who’s already gone is nothing but useless pain.

And yet I regret it.

If only I had paid more attention to Eun-sae, maybe we would still be here, in this small but cozy house, living our noisy little life together.