Chapter 46. The Trap

In front of others, Lee Jun was fierce, but in front of her, he became a gentle retriever. He smiled brightly, as if expecting praise.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Watching the two of them in such harmony, Ji-hye couldn’t suppress a wry smile. With that level of closeness, there wasn’t even a crack to wedge herself in—it made her want to give up. And on top of that, there was the sarcastic jab telling her to enjoy it while she’s there.

Ji-hye sincerely wanted to curse them both.

✳✳✳

“Really? Lee Jun actually said that?”

While the rest of the family was busy participating in a forest program with an expert, Yooa was preparing afternoon snacks. Assistant Manager Hong Sung-han from the PR team stuck close to her, going on about the impression Lee Jun had left.

Maybe it was because they had a common interest, but Yooa genuinely enjoyed hearing about what Lee Jun was like at the company—something she hadn’t seen.

“I think everything’s ready. It’s freezing today, huh? Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some.”

Yooa put bite-sized yakgwa into clear cups, sliced the freshly made hotteok in half and placed them into paper cups, and even prepared fruit that was cut for easy serving. She felt pleased seeing the arrangement come together.

Lee Jun, a favorite among the participants, had been dragged off into the forest, giving Yooa a rare moment of peace.

“Thanks for listening to me. My team’s so sick of the stories, they won’t even let me finish.”

Feeling a nice rhythm between them, Yooa took the coffee Sung-han handed her and smiled.

She could listen to stories about Lee Jun all day and still not have enough.

Eager to hear more about this side of him she hadn’t known, Yooa encouraged Sung-han to keep going.

Unaware that she was making a mistake.

“Assistant Manager Hong, just a moment. We should probably check on the jegichagi and tuho sets for the folk games this afternoon.”

“Sure, let’s go together.”

Sung-han chattered non-stop about how Lee Jun had become his role model and how it had transformed his mindset and habits.

His girlfriend had been annoyed that all he ever talked about was Lee Jun—but after watching the recent live broadcast, especially the way Lee Jun had protected Yooa, she had fallen for him too. She agreed with others online that no photo or screen could ever capture how good-looking he truly was in person.

“Let’s have dinner together sometime—just the four of us.”

“Would that be okay?”

“Of course.”

Sung-han looked elated, and Yooa found herself laughing too.

Meeting Ji-hye had pulled her spirits low, but this light interaction had helped lift her mood.

While most of the staff had followed the forest participants for safety, the area nearby had become relatively quiet. As they walked, a sudden scream shattered the peace.

“Help!”

At the anxious cry, the two of them rushed toward the sound. A man in a black short-sleeved t-shirt—out of place in the forest—came running toward them, hands trembling.

They were some distance from the tent area, so his panicked voice echoed through the quiet woods.

“Over here! My kid, my son!”

“Calm down. What happened to your son?”

He said his son had a slight cold, so he let him rest in the tent—but when he woke up after dozing off for a bit, the child was gone. Yooa, a bit more composed than Sung-han, began asking questions.

“Are you the child’s father? Please calm down. Can you tell me your son’s age and what he was wearing?”

“Huh? His clothes?”

He seemed hesitant, almost annoyed by the question. Yooa quickly explained.

“It’s easier to find him if we know any unique features. Was there a character on the shirt, or any letters?”

The man fumbled, saying he couldn’t quite remember. Then, catching Yooa’s gaze, he blinked rapidly and continued.

“Age… five? Maybe six? About this tall. He was wearing… that favorite one… a blue shirt with a car on it. That one.”

Yooa bit her lip at the man’s uncertain, stuttering answers. It was suspicious that he couldn’t even state his son’s age clearly. And the assumption that any boy would love blue and cars didn’t sit right.

While Sung-han flailed helplessly, Yooa hesitated, sensing something was wrong. The man suddenly shouted, pressuring her.

“Hey! Just find him already! He went out without a jacket! What if he freezes to death?! Will you take responsibility?! Huh?!”

Hearing that the child had gone out without a jacket, Yooa decided to search the area first. Sunlight fades fast in the forest, and hypothermia was a concern.

Children tend to run straight ahead when lost, so she turned to ask the man which direction the boy had gone.

“I saw it with my own eyes—something blue disappeared that way! What are you waiting for?! Go already!”

Sung-han, perhaps overwhelmed by guilt or worry, looked as pale as a ghost. Yooa had already sensed that he was the loyal, energetic type. He didn’t hesitate to climb the steep slope ahead.

“Assistant Manager Hong.”

Even following him was exhausting. Yooa called after him repeatedly, gasping for breath, but he kept going without looking back.

Finally pausing to catch his breath, Sung-han looked behind and offered his hand to Yooa.

“I’m sorry, Yooa. I was just so focused on finding the kid.”

Feeling guilty for not being more considerate, he looked apologetic. Yooa grabbed his outstretched hand and stepped up onto a large rock.

“Hah… hah…”

Her lungs burned. Yooa bent over, panting.

How far had they gone? The forest terrain was growing more difficult, though Sung-han didn’t seem to notice.

“This doesn’t feel right, Assistant Manager. I think we should stop.”

Hearing that, Sung-han’s face turned pale—perhaps thinking she meant they should give up on finding the child.

“What do you mean?”

They hadn’t noticed while moving, but standing still now made the cold wind bite harder. Things that had been invisible before began to appear.

The shade grew deeper as the light faded. Her wet clothes made her feel colder.

Watching Sung-han cover his mouth, Yooa shook her head.

“We need to go back.”

“Yooa…”

“It feels like we’re going in circles. I don’t even know where we are anymore. My phone’s been dead for a while. Let’s head down and get help from the safety crew.”

Darkness was coming fast. There was nothing two untrained people could do alone.

They might even become a burden to rescuers. Yooa insisted they go back and inform Lee Jun and the others.

“…Okay.”

If he had been alone, Sung-han might have kept searching. But with Yooa there, he couldn’t push his own desires.

He followed her lead and began heading back, scanning the surroundings as he moved. After some time…

“Waaah! Daaaad!”

A child’s wailing voice rang out, mixed with the rustling of leaves in the strong wind.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes. Did you hear it too, Sung-han?”

Torn between his desire to successfully complete his project and relief at the nearby child’s voice, Sung-han sprinted in the direction of the sound.

“Just up to there—no, I’ll go myself. Stay here.”

The sound of him pushing through the underbrush was unnerving. Watching him stumble carelessly ahead, Yooa shouted after him.

“Don’t go! Sung-han! Ah—!”

He was already too far away to stop.

Yooa bit her lip in frustration.

Was she just being overly sensitive?

A missing father. A child calling for “dad.” So many things didn’t add up.

“…Most kids call for their mom first…”

Her heart pounded anxiously.

Yooa pressed the call button on her phone.

But there wasn’t even a dial tone.

Only Lee Jun’s name stared back at her from the screen.