KAREN'S POV

I was getting really tired of all the drama but not too long after Marshall got off the phone with Yi's father.

I saw the familiar black Mercedes of Yi's father's car packed just outside the hospital and in no time, he came out.

Before he got to where I and Marshall were standing, I quickly whispered to him "Act accordingly...he should not suspect anything".

I did not even let him speak first and immediately ran to Mr. Jang and hugged him really tight, pouring out my fake tears.

"Oh father I really don't know how this happened. I feel like I have lost everything in life. How could Yi leave us behind like this?".

He gently pulled out of the hug and said to me " Where is Marshall?".

Marshall stepped forward and before he could speak, Mr. Jang slapped him across the face and I was shocked, and thrown off balance for the first time since all this began playing out.

"Where were you when this happened? What were you doing?". He said, grabbing Marshall by the collar.

" I want to see my daughter? Where is my daughter?". He screamed which caused some of the nurses to come running out.

I was suddenly grateful that the cops had left because if they hadn't gone, this reaction might have raised suspicions in their minds and that was the last thing we needed.

I quickly held him "Father please get a hold of yourself we are all deviated as it is and I am very sure Yi won't want us to be acting this way over her death . Please don't be upset father".

I was trying my best to console the foolish old man at this point but he kept repeating 'I want to see my daughter'. Until he eventually passed out.

I and Marshall looked at him through the door of his room and he said to me "Do you want to go and see Yi?".

I didn't want to at first. I decided to just say my final goodbyes and Marshall told me he was going to make the preparations for her funeral.

I walked into the room and the smell of drugs was very prevalent and I slowly walked up to her still body and pulled away the cloth from her face. She laid there lifeless and so cold and I felt very relieved that she was gone

"Goodbye Yi. I hope you won't hate me too much and I promise you that I and Marshall will take very good care of JANG FOOD INDUSTRIES".

I was about to leave when I turned around and said " And as for your father, don't worry either I will spare him just for your sake okay?". I slowly put the cover back over her and walked out of the room.

I have always hated wearing the color black as opposed to many opinions about how it made one look elegant and sophisticated...but I was of a completely different opinion.

I have always loved bright and sunny colors like yellow, pink and the likes but today, I felt pure joy wearing the color black.

I specifically went shopping for this funeral since I didn't really have any black dresses in my closet and even though it was quite on the pricey side, I didn't mind and I paid very happily.

It was annoyingly sunny today so I had to take my sunglasses and besides my eyes has become very puffy due to all the fake tears I have been shedding and I was prepared to shed even more today because I carried some eye drops that would aid my shedding of fake tears.

As I sat in the chapel inside the hospital building , and listened to the priest talking about death and how sometimes it could mean the person has been taken to a better place, I scoffed to myself Yi did not deserve to be in a better place if anything she should be burning in hell.

I have never let myself be fooled by her goody two shoes attitude. I knew that she loved the fact that people always praised her.

I had never let it get to me at first but soon I unknowingly started competing with her and it always infuriated me that no matter what I did, I couldn't beat her.

But that is all in the past as I have won and now she's the one laying in that casket. She is gone and it is my turn to shine and that too without any obstacles.

I looked over to the other aisle and I noticed that Marshall was seating with Mr. Jang and I felt a little sorry for Mr. Jang. I mean the old man has been through a lot. First he lost his wife while trying to have Yi and now Yi is gone too.

He looked so sick and distressed. I was surprised that the old man did not have a cardiac arrest. But that's okay I'm not worried about him he can be very well taken care of.

Before we all walked out of the church to go and lay Yi to rest, I quickly went to the restroom and applied the eye drops because frankly I was running out of tears.

I walked up to Mr. Jang making sure I was sobbing profusely and held him "Oh father how will we live without Yi. I still can not believe that she has gone and left us".

Thankfully, he accepted my hug and did not act funny so I began to console him. While we both walked together with the priest, leading the procession.

As we walked along, I noticed a doctor coming to join us, there was a woman behind him with long straight hair. She looked like she was involved in an accident.

I and Marshall walked up to Yi once again to pay our last respects when I noticed the same lady crying bitter tears just in front of Yi's picture.

She had long straight hair and looked devastated. I was about to tap her and ask how she knew Yiso when Marshall slipped a piece of paper in my hands and when I opened it, it read.

"LET'S BEGIN THE NEXT PHASE OF OUR PLAN!"

YISO'S POV

Everything feels off.

My head is heavy, my limbs weak. I sit up, wincing as pain pulses through my head like my head is about to split open. I shut my eyes, and all I see is darkness.

When I open my eyes, I see worried eyes looking back at me.

"Are you okay, miss?" A man asks me. He looks like a janitor, with a mop in his hand.

"Where am I?" I ask him, my voice barely a whisper.

"Lincoln Medical Hospital, ma'am," he replies, confused.

Soon after, a nurse walks in and looks surprised to see me awake. She hastily pulls out a clipboard, flipping through the pages before settling her gaze on me.

"I'll get the doctor," she says, and quickly exits the room.

A bathroom door is slightly ajar to my right. My throat feels parched, so I slide off the bed. My legs tremble under my weight, but I steady myself. One step, then another, until I reach the sink.

The mirror stares at me and my stomach drops. I don't know why. The woman looking at me feels strange and unfamiliar.

Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and beautiful eyes stare back at me. She looks flawless with her long, rich hair. But that's not what unsettles me. It's her. Her face should be mine, but I don't recognize it.

As I stare, an image of another woman flashes through the mirror, or is it in my mind? The woman has the same eyes and lips but different hair. I stumble back, my heart hammering in my chest. I clutch my chest, panicking, my mind is a jumbled mess. I lean in, studying the reflection. She looks so perfect, yet, I feel nothing when I look at her.

The face in the mirror changes. I still don't know her. I don't know myself. I need answers, and I need them fast.

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door startles me, breaking my thoughts.

"Miso?" A voice calls out from the hallway. The nurse from earlier steps inside, her eyes observing me. "Miso, are you okay?"

"Miso..." The name lands on me like a ton of bricks, but it doesn't feel like it belongs to me...is it mine?

I nod, my heart racing. "Yeah, I am... I'm fine."

"Mr. Han's outside. He's been worried sick. He'll be happy to hear you're awake."

Mr. Han? Who's Mr. Han?

"I...I don't know who that is." My voice trembles, but I try to keep it steady. "He's the one who found and brought you after the accident".

The accident. My mind flashes to images of a flash of light, the screeching of tires, and then... nothing.

"I... I don't remember anything," I whisper quietly.

The nurse's face softens with pity "Don't worry. It'll come back to you. Just take it slow." She gestures for me to sit back down on the bed.

I nod numbly and do as she says.

I rub my eyes and glance at the door. Maybe I'll find some answers with Mr. Han.

A voice broke through my confusion.

"You're awake," a man said, his voice calm. "Thank God."

I blinked several times, trying to focus on him. A kind, wrinkled face stared at me with... concern. But who was he?

"Where am I?" My voice came out hoarse, as though I hadn't spoken in ages.

"You're in the hospital," he replied, his tone soothing. "You were in a bad accident. I brought you here."

An accident? The word echoed in my mind, but everything surrounding it felt like a blank canvas, no memories to fill in the gaps.

"I don't....." I started, but my thoughts felt scrambled. "Who am I?"

His eyes softened with concern. "Your name is Miso Kang," he said.

Miso Kang. The name stirred something deep inside me, but it didn't feel... right.

"Is that... my name?" The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

"Yes," the man said, giving me a reassuring smile. You don't remember?"

I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate, trying to focus on that name, but it was no use. "No," I whispered. "I don't remember."

"Don't worry," he said, as if trying to comfort me. "It's normal after something traumatic. It'll come back."

After a while, Mr. Han leaves and I can hear him speaking with the nurse from earlier. I walk towards the door, tired of sitting. Mr. Han and the nurse turn to me.

"You've been discharged Miss Miso", Mr. Han says.

"We will be leaving soon, I just have to visit the funeral going on, I always attend funerals that take place in my hospital". I nod weakly, too confused to question his words.

The fresh air hits me the moment we step onto the sidewalk, but it does nothing to clear the fog in my mind. As Mr. Han walks slowly toward the funeral procession, my legs feel like they're moving without my permission.

We stop in front of a large, open garden, and I feel my body stiffen. I watch as Mr. Han greets some people I don't recognize.....well-dressed, sad-faced.

My eyes are locked on a portrait, one of a woman whose features mirror the unfamiliar woman I saw in the bathroom mirror.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart pounds so loudly I can hardly hear anything else.

I don't even know how my feet carry me toward the altar, but suddenly, I'm kneeling in front of the portrait. The tears come uncontrollably.

I don't know why I'm crying but my chest tighten as the image of the woman in the portrait blurs before my eyes. Yiso Kenoly, the name reads. Yiso..." I whisper to myself, the name foreign on my lips.

What's happening to me? Why was this picture of a dead woman making my whole body tremble with an ache I can't describe.

I notice a man and woman walk in together, side by side, their eyes filled with tears. As they approach the coffin and me, my breath hitches, and I freeze.

Everything inside me screams at me to run, but I can't. All I can do is watch them approach.

I feel a strangling grip of terror begin to suffocate me, the world around me starts to blur, and then darkness.

YISO'S POV

A sudden gasp escapes my throat as I wake up abruptly, my body soaked in icy sweat. The final memory I have is being at that funeral, collapsing to my knees as the intense sorrow engulfed me entirely.

The name "Yiso Kenoly" resonates in my mind. I clutch the fabric below me, my hands shaking.

The space I occupy is softly illuminated, with the gentle hum of an air conditioner being the sole noise. I attempt to shift, yet my extremities are rigid, my physique burdensome. Then I listen to a voice.

Mr. Han. His tone is soft, infused with worry. There's another voice...a woman's, replying in soft whispers, but I can't discern the words.

I attempt to sit up, but a sudden, intense pain pierces my head. I flinch, pressing my eyes closed tight. And that's when it takes place.

A burst of brightness engulfs my sight and instantly I experience a sudden *thwack* on my head.

I perceive red.

A yell, my yell, echoes in my ears.

I open my eyes wide, inhaling sharply, clutching my head. It disappears, yet the fear endures.

I place a hand against my forehead. What was that? A recollection or an image?

The door groans open as Mr. Han enters. His demeanor is serene, yet his eyes reveal his concern.

"You're conscious," he murmurs gently. "How do you feel?"

I gulp down. "What... took place?" My voice is just above a murmur.

"You fainted at the funeral," he clarifies, moving nearer. "It must have overwhelmed you."

Excessive. That's putting it mildly.

I attempt to fend off the panic and survey the area. The space feels strange yet refined, featuring dark wooden furnishings and a big window that faces the city.

"Where am I located?"

"My residence," Mr. Han states. "I didn't want you to be alone at the hospital when you woke up, so I brought you here, and you can remain for as long as you want."

I nod gradually, yet my thoughts continue to whirl.

That picture......the hammer and the dazzling light endure.

Hands tremble, and heartbeat thunders in my ears.

"Miso?" Mr. Han's voice appears faraway, altered.

I compel myself to blink, to take a breath, yet my body won't settle down.

He observes and approaches slowly, as if he fears I might shatter.

"Miso, speak with me," he implores. I part my lips, yet the words refuse to emerge.

At last, I indicate the hammer, and he swiftly takes it as though aware of my anguish.

"The laborers must have abandoned it," he says. I stay quiet since I'm unsure of what to express.

I'm not sure why a basic hammer urges me to flee. Why it seems like a tool designed for me.

Later that night, I am seated in the living room, gazing vacantly at the TV screen. Mr. Han is seated close by, perusing a newspaper.

I'm unable to concentrate. My thoughts are a jumble of disjointed pictures and emotions that lack coherence.

The memorial service. The mallet. The title "Yiso Kenoly".

Who is that woman? Why does contemplating her make me feel as if I'm plummeting into a void?

The voice of the news anchor draws me out of my contemplation.

"We provide you with urgent news about Jang Foods, one of the top food firms in America based in the bustling city of New York."

I become immobilized.

"Jang Foods?" I murmur. The name seems to be a place known.

I shift my eyes to the display. A woman and a man stand in front of a line of microphones, their expressions serious. The journalists encircle them, cameras lighting up.

The man... there's something about him that turns my stomach. His defined features, how he poses.

The woman's face appears in my thoughts, just beyond my grasp.

I lean in closer, feeling my heart race.

Karen. Marshall. Their names surge into my thoughts unexpectedly. How can I recognize them?

I hold onto the armrest, my fingers sinking into the material. My breaths grow shallow.

"Miso?" Mr. Han speaks with caution.

I can hardly hear him.

The updates keep coming. "Recent controversies surrounding Jang Foods have sparked worries, especially about their CEO's abrupt exit after allegations..."

Abrupt exit? Accusations? I'm not sure why, but I have a sense that I ought to understand what's going on.

Karen and Marshall share a glance on screen. Next, Marshall begins to speak. "We are collaborating with the relevant authorities to address any misconceptions." The term seems incorrect.

A new wave of dizziness hits me. Karen's features. The voice of Marshall. Jang Food Products.

I shut my eyes tight, but rather than darkness, I see flashes.

I have blood on my hands and a set of frightened eyes looking at me. A soft voice tells me, "Run."

I inhale sharply, my body lurching forward as I return to the present.

Mr. Han is beside me in a flash, holding onto my shoulders.

"Miso, take a breath," he says with conviction. "You are secure."

Secure. I lack a sense of security. I sense I'm submerged in recollections I can't recall.

I grip his sleeve, my voice scarcely a murmur. "What is going on with me?"

Mr. Han's gaze becomes somber, and following an extended silence, he utters the phrase I hadn't anticipated. "I believe you ought to consult a therapist."

I've been living with Mr. Han for a few weeks now, and he has acted like my guardian angel. He motivated me to visit a therapist and even covered the substantial costs.

I can't even picture repaying him, so I've concluded that the minimum I can do is to improve myself and ease his worries.

I began visiting the therapist last week, and to be honest, it has been beneficial. I've also chosen to find employment since I can't continue relying on Mr. Han, regardless of how often he encourages me to do so.

Today, I attended a therapy session and am currently walking the streets looking for any job postings I come across. The city is more crowded than I expected.

Unexpectedly, I navigate the bustling streets as if I've done it countless times before.

I clutch the strap of my bag more firmly and pause in front of a stylish corporate building, examining the job board by the entrance.

"Administrator, Custodian." "Interns required," I whisper while running my fingers along the list, browsing through job advertisements.

Out of the blue, a voice I recognize calls out from behind me, "I know you."

The words cut through the air like a knife.

I become immobile.