The trial room was suffocating with tension. Every camera in Seoul seemed to be watching. Hana walked in hand-in-hand with Mi-Ho, her chin high. The man who once bought her sat at the defendant's table, arrogant as ever.
When Hana took the witness stand, her voice was steady. "I am not here to beg. I am here to tell the truth."
She laid out every detail—how she was sold, how she escaped, how she rebuilt. Each word cut through the silence like a blade. The jury leaned forward, captivated.
For the first time, her tormentor's smirk faltered.