Bang!
Thud!
Crash!
With a deafening roar of destruction, more than five vehicles collided in a chain reaction ahead.
Some cars, unable to withstand the impact, were flung off the road.
In an instant, the road turned into chaos.
Thud!
Thud!
Before long, two more cars were caught in the mess.
It looked like a scene straight out of a disaster movie.
The overturned and crumpled vehicles blocked the road like barricades.
The oil that had leaked out painted the road in streaks, while shards of black and white debris rolled around aimlessly.
Amidst the confusion, some drivers, perhaps unconscious, let their horns blare continuously, the sound becoming a desperate wail.
My uncle reacted immediately to the first crash.
Driving against traffic without hesitation, he crossed the center line and stopped abruptly on the opposite shoulder.
Thanks to that, we were just one step removed from the chaos, able to witness everything.
The sudden massive accident that had unfolded before our eyes left both my uncle and me frozen in place.
It was terror so overwhelming that even breathing felt difficult.
This was like a calamity.
At the same time, a particular incident surfaced in my mind.
“Chain collision, 1 fatality. The deceased at the scene was Han Mari, aged 14…”
Ah.
It was now.
At the very front of the chain collision.
A high-end foreign car at the point of the initial crash.
The side of the car crushed from the passenger-side collision.
The unconscious driver.
A ditch covered with thick bushes.
And…
‘The backseat window is open.’
Everything connected in an instant.
“…Ah.”
The fateful moment arrived in such an absurd way.
I couldn’t think of anything else.
As if possessed, I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car door.
There wasn’t a trace of hesitation.
“I’m going, Uncle.”
“What…?”
His eyes widened slowly.
Shocked, his mouth hung open before he shouted.
“What, what…?! Wait, Hana, where are you going?! It’s dangerous—!! I’ll move the car out of here right away, so let’s just get out of here fast!”
“Hana…?”
“…I’m sorry.”
My uncle, with a flustered expression, tried to grab me from the driver’s seat.
But I opened the door and ran forward.
Toward the ditch.
The bush-covered ditch below.
She was there.
She was dying.
“Hey!! Hana!! No!! It’s dangerous!!”
“…Call 911. I’ll do what I can.”
“What?!”
“I’ll come back unharmed, so just call 911! Hurry!!”
I could hear the sound of my uncle frantically unbuckling his seatbelt, bewildered by my sudden burst of determination.
But I didn’t look back as I ran.
Just beyond the narrow gap of the car door.
The eerie atmosphere of the accident site hit me.
The acrid smoke and the smell of burning tires.
“Haah…!”
Like the wailing of a battlefield.
The honking behind me beat against my chest like a sinister drum.
Cold sweat dripped down, and I felt like my legs would give out.
My childlike instincts screamed for me to return to the car immediately.
My small, fragile body was keenly aware of the threat to my survival.
Even so, I kept running.
Why?
Why on earth?
‘I don’t know…’
It wasn’t as if I owed her a debt from a previous life.
It wasn’t because I sought any kind of reward.
‘Not really…’
Not even in this life had I had any significant connection to Han Mari.
…We had only locked eyes once.
And yet.
My legs moved toward the ditch.
The reason was only one.
Because I didn’t want to regret it.
And so, I ran through the overgrown bushes and saved her from the shadowy ditch below.
Although my past life as an artist had been a failure…
In this life, I saved a genius.
A lingering regret from the life of ‘Go Hun,’ filled with remorse, vanished that day.
“The last patient is ready for transport.”
The accident scene, now in the aftermath, was cloaked in the dark of evening.
My uncle and I stood silently, watching the ambulance carrying the injured drive away.
The severely injured were rushed to the nearest university hospital’s emergency room.
Those with lighter injuries had also just been transported.
The police worked to clean up the disastrous state of the road.
Next to them, we were being questioned.
Night had fully fallen, and the dark evening was upon us.
Hearing the updates on the police radios gave us a sense of relief.
Seventeen vehicles damaged.
Nine seriously injured.
Twenty-three with minor injuries.
No fatalities.
‘It changed.’
Finally.
Two years since I had returned.
Something big had changed.
I felt it.
A weight lifted from my chest.
A young traffic officer, speaking into his radio, sighed deeply.
My uncle gave him a wry smile in an attempt to comfort him.
“Thank you for your cooperation. If it weren’t for the two of you, the investigation would have taken much longer. We’ll get more details at the hospital, but… this is such a massive case. Sigh. And to think a chaebol’s granddaughter got caught up in it.”
“Heh, you’re working hard.”
The officer continued to ask for my uncle’s phone number, pleading for further cooperation.
“Please, I’m begging you…!”
“Well, I do have to go to work tomorrow.”
My uncle handed over his number reluctantly.
In the end, we were the only ones who had witnessed the entire accident unscathed.
The police designated us as witnesses and asked for a summary of what had happened.
After wrapping up, my uncle stretched and muttered.
“What a mess.”
“It’s too late to eat at home. Should we eat out? What do you want? A burger?”
“…Soup.”
“Heh, that’s my niece.”
I couldn’t say anything other than the menu.
My uncle chuckled at that.
With his rough hands, he ruffled my hair.
“You little brat. Do you even realize how much you scared me? Huh?”
“Seriously… Don’t do that again. I get that you were trying to save someone, but your own life is the most precious thing. Got it?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“You little peanut-sized kid. Where do you get such guts? Even getting your clothes stained with blood—”
“Sorry. It was expensive.”
“It’s not about the money, you rascal.”
“That’s what rich uncles say.”
“Uncles can say that too.”
“…Thirty-year-olds aren’t uncles.”
“What are you even saying, kid?”
We looked down at my clothes together.
My top was stained with dark patches of Mari’s blood.
My skirt, torn for first aid, had turned into a makeshift mini-skirt.
The cardigan I had used to cover Mari had been taken away with the ambulance.
‘Even the name tag on my coat is gone.’
All that was left was a blood-stained, disheveled elementary school girl with pale legs exposed.
Unlike the polished appearance I had left home with in the morning…
By evening, I looked utterly pitiful.
But my heart felt light.
My uncle stared at me blankly before commenting.
“You look like a mess.”
“I am a mess, Uncle.”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’m serious.”
“You think you can eat like this?”
“So what? I’m just an elementary schooler. I’ve gone out in winter wearing nothing but long johns before.”
“They’ll think I hit you and stained your clothes with blood.”
“Then you can lend me your coat or something.”
“They’ll think I hit you and then comforted you.”
“…Haha, that’s true.”
“You brat. What are you laughing at?”
With his rough hands, my uncle tousled my hair again.
My hair turned into a broom-like mess.
Normally, I would have squirmed to resist, but given what I’d done, I stayed still.
We crossed the dark road to a soup restaurant.
After a simple meal, we returned to the small villa neighborhood.
“Hana, what about your competition?”
“Oh, well… if I did well, they’ll give me a prize.”
“And Han Mari? Since when were you friends with her?”
“…We’re not friends. I only saw her once.”
“Then why did you tell the 911 guys she was your friend?”
“Isn’t it strange to say you desperately saved someone you don’t know?”
“But you did it anyway. Didn’t she hear about it too?”
“I don’t know. Would she have heard it properly while she was hurt?”
“Seriously…”
The office of Palette, a magazine specializing in domestic and international art issues with nothing but its long history to boast of, was bustling with activity.
In the midst of covering the Hanul Youth Art Contest, an earth-shattering piece of news disrupted their flow.
Editor Kim’s pupils trembled uncontrollably.
The hand holding his phone shook just as violently.
“What?! Han Mari got involved in a car accident?!”
The shocking news of a prodigy who had been the lifeblood of art publications being in an accident spread rapidly among the staff working late.
After all, it was a small company with only a handful of employees.
One of the late-working staff murmured absentmindedly.
“…No way.”
“Shut up.”
All the employees held their breath and stared at Editor Kim.
His expression gradually softened as the voice on the other end of the phone continued speaking.
“Yeah, I see. Are you sure there’s no embargo on this news? Got it. Thanks for your hard work.”
Click!
Kim sighed and flipped his folding phone shut.
The crisp sound drew everyone’s attention.
He spoke.
“…A colleague who went to the hospital where Han Mari is having surgery said she’s seriously injured but survived thanks to immediate surgery. There won’t be any lasting disabilities or impairments, and the critical period has passed, so HU isn’t imposing any media restrictions.”
“Phew…”
“Thank goodness…”
“Oh, thank heavens…”
One employee hesitantly raised their hand.
“Should we proceed with the content we edited today for next week as planned? The Hanul Youth Art Contest: Han Mari Special?”
“That…”
“What about it?”
“…Put it on hold. It’s not the right time to prod for interviews or stir things up while the media is on edge. Let’s wait until after the awards ceremony next month and decide based on the situation.”
“Then what do we do…? This season usually features the Hanul Youth Art Contest special, and we haven’t prepared any other material.”
Editor Kim deliberated.
In situations like this, the safest bet was to cover a topic like discovering new prodigies—exciting, but not essential.
‘Discovering a new prodigy, huh…’
“…Hey.”
“Yes?”
“Remember the participant recommendation ticket we received for the contest?”
“Yes, the one we handed out because our company has been around forever.”
“Right. Assistant Manager Park handed it out casually to an elementary school teacher when we were desperate for an article. Do you remember which elementary school that was?”
“Uh… was it?”
“Who was it? Does anyone have photos of the participant from that time?”
Han Mari’s father, Han Taejin, also the second son of the HU Group, reflected on the most harrowing week of his life.
It was Thursday evening, the day of the accident.
He had just finished reconnecting with a business partner he hadn’t seen in a while and was heading home, humming with satisfaction.
‘Mari must have worked hard today. Should we go out for dinner together?’
However, waiting for him at home wasn’t his daughter, freshly returned from the competition, or his loyal assistant.
Instead, it was the housekeeper, Mrs. Ma, her face pale as a sheet, screaming:
“Sir! Assistant Kang and Miss Mari were in a car accident…!”
After hearing those words, Han Taejin fainted briefly.
When he regained consciousness, foaming at the mouth, he hurriedly dashed to the university hospital, driving barefoot in his panic.
The chaotic blur of colors outside the car window intensified his worst fears.
What awaited him in the emergency room was…
Blood.
The stench of alcohol.
His daughter on the brink of death.
Han Taejin fainted again.
When he came to, five hours had passed.
Mari’s surgery had just concluded.
He didn’t manage coherent speech until the following day when he saw her walking to the bathroom on her own.
“Ugh…”
Recalling those moments made him break out in cold sweat, and his head spun again.
“Phew…”
Thump, thump…
To distract himself, he downed a cup of vending machine coffee.
The cheap coffee’s sweetness lingered on his tongue.
But even the coffee couldn’t mask the nightmares.
His heart began to pound, recalling the terror of that day.
The pounding was so fierce it made him sweat all over again.
“…Is this what they call PTSD?”
For a moment, he considered scheduling an appointment at Mari’s psychology center in the U.S. But he shook his head and roughly tossed the paper cup away.
He returned to the ward where his daughter was recovering.
Passing through hallways filled with patients and the faint smell of disinfectant, he reached the quiet section with private rooms.
After taking a deep breath, he entered.
Forgetting the blood-stained night when his daughter was brought in, he forced a gentle voice.
“How’s my darling feeling?”
“Snnff… hmm?”
Mari, dressed in her patient gown, was clutching a small child-sized cardigan—the one stained with blood on the day of the accident, now washed once.
Han Taejin pretended not to notice.
‘Blanket syndrome or whatever. Just stay alive, my dear.’
Mari smiled bashfully.
“I’m fine. But what about Hana…?”
“…Assistant Kang went to thank her personally.”
“…I wanted to go too. Hmph.”
“Mari, you can’t move around yet.”
“Thank you so much.”
“This is a small token of our gratitude…”
A gray-haired man in a luxurious suit was bowing deeply, arms full of extravagant gifts.
As a commoner, my uncle and I were flustered.
‘Why are there car keys and luxury items among the gifts…?’