When the front door clicked shut behind them, the air inside the villa shifted—sharp, still, and heavy with expectation.
Coach Min sat upright on the living room sofa like a storm waiting to break. Arms crossed, her back straight, her sharp eyes locked onto the entrance the moment they stepped in. The television was off, no tea set out on the table, no signs of casual hospitality. This wasn't a drop-by visit. This was an ambush.
Ji-hye froze mid-step. Her heart lurched painfully in her chest.
She hadn't seen her mother since yesterday. And now she was here. Not at the training center. Not at the gym. But here, in the villa Ji-hye shared with Joon-ho and Harin. At their home.
Her fingers curled tightly into the soft folds of her dress, knuckles pale.
"Coach Min…" she said quietly, the words catching in her throat.
The older woman's gaze remained cold and unreadable. "You know why I'm here."
Ji-hye nodded, her throat thick. There was no point in pretending.
