CHAPTER 33……………………………………………………………….
At that moment, the smile that had lingered on her lips only seconds ago vanished cleanly. Her expression cooled in an instant.
“You’re here?”
“…Yes. You’ve arrived.”
Serin turned her gaze toward Hana. With the faintest curve of a smile on her lips, she said,
“Oh my, we meet again?”
“…Hello.”
It was a face she had run into at yesterday’s event as well. Back then, Serin had smiled just like this—seemingly kind, yet with something subtly condescending beneath it.
“Did you get home safely yesterday?”
“Yes, thanks to you….”
Hana answered briefly. There was no need to elaborate, no reason to drag the conversation out.
Just then, beside her, Misook lightly tapped the back of Serin’s hand and added,
“Right when I was about to call you, Serin happened to ask if I could help her with some shopping today.”
Hana forced a smile. Adjusting the bag in her hand, Misook continued,
“Since you’re already out, why don’t you come along? Help Serin pick out some clothes.”
It sounded like an invitation, but the tone left no room for choice. It was an order—don’t argue, just follow.
Hana lowered her gaze briefly, then nodded.
“Yes, I understand.”
Misook nodded in satisfaction and turned to Serin.
“Serin, is there anywhere you’d like to look?”
“I heard the luxury section just got their new arrivals. Shall we take a look?”
“Shall we? Hey, carry this.”
Misook handed the shopping bag she’d been holding to Hana. The thick paper bag was far heavier than it looked.
Without a word, Hana took it with both hands. Her fingertips dipped slightly under the sudden weight.
Serin and Misook began walking side by side.
They naturally matched their steps, chatting about this and that. Whenever Misook asked something, Serin answered with a bright smile. Their conversation flowed smoothly, as if they had known each other for years.
Hana followed a few steps behind at a measured distance. The handles of the shopping bags pressed into her palms, leaving marks.
The marble floor gleamed, and the crisp click of Serin’s high heels rang lightly across it.
Hana’s footsteps were swallowed by that sound.
Throughout their time in the luxury stores, Hana’s hands were never empty. Every time Serin chose an outfit, every time Misook asked for it to be wrapped, the staff naturally extended the shopping bags toward Hana.
No one found it strange.
As if she were the one who was meant to carry them.
Hana silently accepted each bag. The white paper handles dug into her fingers, and the weight steadily increased.
The heavier her arms grew, the deeper her heart seemed to sink.
“Mother, how about this bag?”
Serin’s bright voice echoed lightly through the store.
“It’s pretty. The color is so elegant—it suits you perfectly.”
“Really? Then shall I get this one?”
Misook nodded with a smile.
“I love that you’re picking things out with me, Mother.”
Serin linked arms with her affectionately. Misook beamed and gently smoothed Serin’s hair.
From a few steps away, arms full of shopping bags, Hana watched.
Then—
“Hey, what are you doing over there? Come here.”
Misook’s voice cut in suddenly. Shifting the bags in her arms, Hana hurried over.
“What do you think of this dress?”
The dress Misook held up was pink—shiny silk, excessive frills, and a large ribbon decoration.
Hana hesitated for a moment.
“…I think it’s pretty.”
“Right? It’s pretty, isn’t it? I think it’ll suit Serin well.”
Misook nodded with satisfaction.
“Serin, try this on too.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Smiling brightly, Serin took the dress and stepped into the fitting room. Misook watched her with an indulgent expression.
After a moment, Misook slowly turned her gaze toward Hana.
“Why are you just standing there? Uncomfortable?”
Hana quickly straightened.
“…N-No.”
“Why don’t you pick something too? Ah, but….”
Misook looked her up and down, a subtle smile forming on her lips.
“These clothes might be a bit much for you. Simpler styles suit you better.”
Her tone was soft, but thin thorns hid beneath the words. A roundabout way of saying: you don’t belong here.
Hana said nothing. She only tightened her grip on the shopping bag handles. They bit into her palms, leaving marks, though even that sensation felt distant.
Just then, the fitting room curtain slid open. Bright light spilled out as Serin stepped forward.
In the pink dress, she looked radiant—like a doll. Natural confidence shimmered on her face.
She slowly turned once in front of the mirror.
“Mother, how is it?”
“Oh, Serin. You’re truly beautiful.”
Misook’s eyes softened.
“We have to buy this.”
“Really? Thank you, Mother.”
Serin spun lightly with a brilliant smile. Then she tilted her head and glanced at Hana.
“Miss Hana, why don’t you try it on too? Even if it’s different from your usual style, this brand’s clothes are really beautiful.”
Hana gave a brief smile and shook her head.
“I’m fine.”
Serin tilted her head again, feigning surprise.
“Oh, come on. Mother, won’t you pick something for Miss Hana too?”
Misook let out a small laugh—gentle, yet edged.
“Serin, you’re so kind.”
Though it sounded like praise, her gaze rested on Hana.
“But she doesn’t wear clothes like this, right?”
Hana lowered her eyes briefly before answering quietly,
“…No. It’s not really my style.”
“Exactly. I’ve never seen you wear anything like this.”
Tidying the handles of a shopping bag with her fingertips, Misook added,
“Then we’ll keep looking. You go rest at the café for a bit. You must be tired from carrying all that.”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“What do you mean, fine?”
Misook waved her hand dismissively.
“Go have some coffee. We’ll call you when we’re done.”
It sounded like considerate kindness, but the undertone was clear: don’t get in the way.
Hana said nothing more. Carefully, she set the shopping bags down beside a sofa.
As the weight left her hands, a strange emptiness brushed over her.
She slowly walked toward the store entrance. Behind her, Misook and Serin’s voices continued.
“Mother, this dress is so pretty too!”
“Is it? Then try that one on as well. Our Serin looks beautiful in anything.”
Their laughter filled the store. Hana moved forward, the sound trailing behind her.
As the glass door closed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A sigh escaped her lips.
Lowering her head, Hana headed toward the café across the lobby.
Each step of her heels echoed against the marble floor, the sound unusually loud.
As if announcing that she was growing smaller and smaller within the vast space.
While sitting at the café, sipping coffee that tasted like nothing at all, her phone vibrated. The screen trembled slightly on the table, a name lighting up.
Misook.
[We’re done. Bring the bags and come to the 10th floor.]
Hana clenched her phone tightly. Her hand trembled. She couldn’t tell whether she was angry or sad.
It was simply a feeling that had seeped into her life long ago—like a habit.
