I will become the strongest and protect my family.
Baines swore to himself as he clung to the memory of their fleeting smiles, now faded like dreams in his mind the moment he reached for them.
He swore it to himself when his brothers suddenly vanished in the dead of the night without leaving so much as a trace. There was no sound or sign of struggle.
Just absence.
That night carved a jagged wound in their family, one that never stopped bleeding.
But that wasn't the end.
He whispered the vow again as he watched his sister shed silent tears in her bed, and her once-vibrant spirit slowly dimmed. Her legs no longer moved. She had become crippled, and no one could tell him why.
And when he thought that would be the end of it—when he believed the world had taken enough—he was forced to watch from beneath the house as his father was dragged away like a criminal. Like property. He had bitten down on his sleeve so hard his mouth filled with blood, just to keep from screaming.
'Haven't I lost enough already?'
Baines pleaded with the merciless world in silence, praying that this would be the last thing it took from him.
However, the world was not done with him.
Inside this luxurious room, a bed rested at the center.
Upon it lay a middle-aged woman, wrapped in thin sheets that covered her frail body, leaving only her face exposed. Her weak and shallow breaths were the only signs of life, and at the same time, it was a cruel reminder of her life slowly slipping away.
The rare medicines and herbal scents that filled the air attested to the countless sums of gold that had been spent. In the end, only their ancestral home remained, and still, the source of her coma couldn't be traced.
"Mo…ther." Baines clenched the bedsheets with his small fists, his voice thick as he struggled to speak. "Please… wake up."
He buried his face in the sheets, pressing down hard to stop the tears that threatened to fall.
'Gone… everything.' He broke down.
His happiness. His family. His pride.
'And... I watched it all happen.'
When he lifted his head, his reflection stared back at him in the polished wood of the bedframe. Eyes that had once held childish wonder were now hollow, drained of warmth and filled with grief and something sharper beneath it.
Anger.
"I'll take it back," he whispered, his voice cracking even as something burned fiercely in his chest. "I'll… take it back."
He didn't know who had done this.
He only knew that someone had done it and had to pay for it.
The thought that another person could just take everything from him and tear his life apart so easily made his chest tighten and filled him with rage.
His vision blurred as his thoughts drowned in rage. Suddenly, a strange heat surged through him, crawling beneath his skin.
For a brief moment, faint sparks of crimson light flickered around his shoulders and eyes. It was weak and unsteady, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
He didn't realize he wasn't alone, and all his actions were seen.
"Young master!"
The voice jolted Baines back to himself. The heat vanished.
His breath hitched. 'What was that?'
Then he turned toward the sound, his head lowering.
"Uncle Kwon."
Despite being called uncle, the man was elderly. His back was bent, his hair thin and white, his face lined deeply by time, and he shared no blood ties with Baines, yet he had served the Baek family longer than most could remember.
Somehow, in the quiet aftermath, he and Baines had grown close.
Kwon approached with a gentle smile that never quite reached his tired eyes.
"Are you sad again?"
Baines didn't respond. His head was still lowered, and his mind clearly not focused.
Kwon extended his hands anyway, his smile still on despite the lack of response,
"I have told you. You have to remain strong for your mother. How will she feel when she wakes up and sees you crying?" His voice was soft.
Baines hesitated, then grasped the outstretched hands.
Kwon held them firmly. "Remember what I taught you. Now… let everything go."
Baines inhaled slowly. He held his breath, counting in his head.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Then he exhaled.
When he opened his eyes, Kwon was still smiling.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
Baines thought about it.
Usually, he would feel a certain sort of peace after holding Kwon's hands. A fragile peace.
But today—
"I—"
"Baines!"
The call cut him off.
Elder Kwon and Baines turned to the entrance.
There were two new figures in the room. But Baines barely noticed the one standing. His focus was fixed on the girl seated in the wheelchair just beyond the threshold. She was an older teenager, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable.
"C-Cecilia…?" His voice wavered.
"Young mistress," Kwon said, bowing his head.
Cecilia's gaze shifted from Baines to Kwon. Something passed silently between them.
Understanding, Kwon nodded. "Please excuse me."
He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Silence followed, stretching for minutes after Kwon had left.
Cecilia stared at Baines, at his small frame and appearance that longed for familial love, then at the unmoving woman on the bed.
Her lips parted, but no words came.
She didn't know what to say. Her hands trembled slightly against the armrests. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she forced them back.
She knew she couldn't break down.
Not here. Not now.
When she finally spoke, her voice was cold and steady.
"Don't trust anyone."
Baines didn't argue. After everything that had happened, it was difficult to trust anyone again. Though he didn't quite understand what she meant until she finished,
She continued, her gaze sharp.
"Especially not anyone in this house."
This house?
Confusion crossed Baines's face. He opened his mouth—Who?—but no sound came.
Cecilia had already motioned for her attendant. The wheelchair turned slowly, carrying her toward the door.
Baines could only watch her leave, frozen in place and stuck in confusion.
The room felt colder than before.
And the question she left behind—
Who?
—was far more frightening than the silence.