Chapter 01
Two months ago.
Hanyeong Hospital EM (Emergency Medicine) office.
For Ji-an, a second-year EM resident, last night had been unusually cruel.
“Hong Ji-an. Go wash up a bit.”
Min Kyung-seok entered the office, handing Ji-an a café mocha topped with whipped cream, looking at her with pity.
Kyung-seok was known as the ghost of the ER.
He was a third-year EM fellow and also Ji-an’s senior from university.
“I washed my hair three days ago.”
Ji-an spoke mechanically, not taking her eyes off the monitor.
The sweet smell teased her nose, but she didn’t have the strength to pick it up.
She just wanted to finish the charts quickly and rest for a moment.
Three critical patients had come in during the early morning.
There had been a gang fight nearby the hospital.
The patient Ji-an was in charge of had colorful dragon tattoos on both arms.
He was unconscious from hemorrhagic shock caused by abdominal trauma, so she had opened the operating room in advance, controlled the bleeding, and ran an emergency CT.
But by the time General Surgery arrived, the golden time had already passed.
The patient’s heart stopped, and Ji-an had to helplessly declare him dead.
Delivering a death notice always weighed heavily on her heart.
The police investigator who came after being called and the gang members filling the ER made it even harder to breathe.
But there was no time to get swept away by emotion.
Soon after, a TA (traffic accident) patient came in, and she had to run again.
She didn’t even know how she made it to morning in her mind.
When would they finally hire more staff?
She hoped that next year there would be more applicants for EM residency.
Ji-an, enduring a brutal schedule, typed weakly on the keyboard with bloodshot eyes.
“Go home already.”
Was she hallucinating from sleep deprivation?
“You’re supposed to be off today. I’ll finish the remaining charts, so go get some sleep. Don’t even come near the ER until tomorrow. No calls, either.”
It sounded like a dream.
Ji-an lifted her heavy head and looked at Kyung-seok properly for the first time.
“Wow, you look like a zombie. Scary enough to appear in my dreams.”
Kyung-seok made a shivering face and stepped back.
Was that all?
“Here, take this too.”
He casually handed Ji-an a department store shopping bag.
Inside was chocolate wrapped in fancy packaging.
“What’s this?”
“Birthday present.”
Birthday?
Ji-an lowered her gaze and looked at the date on the chart.
December 10.
It was her birthday, the day she always ate seaweed soup her mother had made.
She felt her chest heat up, but she deliberately ignored it.
“This chocolate is expensive. It’s also a bribe so you won’t run away. Eat it all and go to work like a proper human being tomorrow.”
Kyung-seok pushed Ji-an away and sat in front of the computer instead. But when Ji-an didn’t move right away, he asked curiously,
“Why? Don’t want to go home? Want to just work?”
“No. Thank you, senior!”
Ji-an, still a little dazed, bowed her head at the unexpected gift and ran out of the office. She didn’t have time to get lost in birthday sentiment.
It had been 72 hours since she last left work.
It was wise to disappear before another emergency caught her.
She preferred stairs to elevators for one or two floors, so with almost superhuman strength, she ran straight to the locker room one floor above. She put the chocolate in her locker and threw off her white coat.
Wearing her padded jacket, she stepped outside. The winter chill pierced her body.
It wasn’t cold—it felt refreshing.
She didn’t even know how long it had been since she had breathed fresh air.
Her body felt like wet cotton, sinking, but her mood felt like it could fly.
Sleepiness came over her, but Ji-an headed to Dongsan Hospital, where her mother was. At least she would see her mother on her birthday, and that made her feel a little relieved.
Bang! Bang!
Just as she reached the road in front of the hospital, a car horn blared next to her.
No way…
Ji-an turned, feeling a sense of dread.
As if waiting, the rear window of a black sedan opened.
“Looks like you’re leaving work. Get in.”
Her grandmother, Park Soon-ja, gestured naturally.
Ah, she hated it. Why today of all days?
Her feet felt stuck to the pavement, unable to move.
Ji-an knew better than anyone that her grandmother hadn’t come to celebrate a birthday she didn’t even know about.
Twenty years ago, Ji-an’s father had died in a car accident.
Her grandmother, who only forced her daughter-in-law to obey her, blamed Ji-an’s mother for the accident and vented her cruel anger.
“My son-devouring wicked woman!”
“This shallow, worthless woman!”
“If you want to live with your child, leave empty-handed. If you take even a single coin from my house, you’ll never see your child again!”
The truly cruel one was not her mother, but the violent grandmother who only cared about money.
Eventually, the grandmother kicked Ji-an’s mother out, leaving her empty-handed.
Ji-an still vividly remembered her mother crying, holding her young daughter and apologizing.
To live with her daughter, her mother worked hard in a restaurant.
Her delicate hands became worn and rough, and she grew weaker day by day.
Ji-an, putting patches on her mother’s back, gritted her teeth and studied.
When she got into medical school as a scholarship student, her mother was happier than if she had the whole world.
Ji-an graduated from medical school and lived as an ER resident on 24-hour shifts. Even though it was hard, she earned a decent salary. She finally thought she could take care of her mother comfortably.
But that joy and satisfaction ended a year ago.
Her hardworking mother suddenly collapsed from a brain hemorrhage.
Even after emergency surgery, her mother did not regain consciousness. She fell into a coma.
Because recovery was possible, early treatment was crucial.
Ji-an used everything she had and tried every treatment she could.
Thankfully, there was some improvement for a few months.
Her mother’s brainstem responded, she could breathe on her own without the oxygen machine, and her senses slowly returned. She sometimes showed bodily reactions.
But that was all.
Even with expensive brain stimulation therapy, her mother did not improve further.
Eventually, the attending professor advised stopping treatment and suggested a nursing hospital.
Further brain stimulation had no meaning.
Physical therapy to keep her body from stiffening was the best way to maintain life.
The doctor’s advice felt like a death sentence to Ji-an, telling her to give up on her mother.
She could not accept it.
But she had already maxed out her loans and could not keep her mother in a university hospital bed. Even Hanyeong Hospital, where she worked, would not take her mother and suggested an affiliated nursing hospital.
In the end, Ji-an had no choice but to kneel before her grandmother, the chairperson of Dongsan Hospital.
“Grandmother! I’m not asking for charity. I will repay you. I cannot give up on my mother. Please make a space for her at Dongsan Hospital so she can continue treatment.”
“What treatment does a vegetable need? How shameless.”
“My mother will wake up! I’ll do anything. Please help me.”
“Then, I’ll accept your mother at Dongsan Hospital—but you must fully cooperate with the Hong family from now on.”
Dongsan Hospital had been founded by her late grandfather.
Her father became the director after him until his death, and her grandmother, as chairperson, held immense power as the manager.
She had kicked out Ji-an and her mother, cutting off all ties with the hospital and the family.
Now she demanded Ji-an’s cooperation, and fear welled up in her.
But there was no other way.
To keep her mother’s treatment going, she had to agree.
A month ago, she transferred her mother to Dongsan Hospital.
As Ji-an had hoped, her mother could receive the expensive brain treatment she had at the university hospital.
In return, her grandmother began dragging Ji-an to arranged marriage meetings as if it were her duty.
Ji-an never imagined that helping the Hong family would mean forced marriage.
Her grandmother tried to use these connections to get huge investments for Dongsan Hospital.
The money wasn’t used entirely for the hospital.
Her grandmother only used it to maintain her own honor, setting up Ji-an’s marriage positions while continuing her personal ventures.
It was absurd and infuriating, but to keep her mother’s treatment going, Ji-an had no choice but to comply, even if she hated the meetings.
