Mi Rae hesitated before finally walking up to Ra Mi, standing like a statue in front of the building. The sky was still damp from the storm, the air cold, but her sister's gaze was colder.
Maybe this was what Ra Mi had wanted all along, for her to fail, to be fired, to prove her right.
Mi Rae's arms tightened around her box. She had chosen journalism half-heartedly, chasing after a single phrase she once loved: the truth will always prevail. That naïve hope had carried her through classes, through long nights of doubt. But now? Now it felt like an old joke.
Ra Mi's eyes raked over her, taking in the damp hair, the swollen eyes, the way Mi Rae clutched her belongings like a child clutching broken toys. Her lips twisted in disdain. She strode forward, snatching the box without a word and tossing it into the back seat of her sleek black car.
"Get in," she ordered coldly.
Mi Rae obeyed. The silence that followed was suffocating. The hum of the engine only made the distance between them sharper.
She never understood Ra Mi, not fully. She had stopped trying years ago. Ra Mi's cruelty was unpredictable—sharp one moment, indifferent the next—but always there. Yet beneath it, Mi Rae could feel the old wound throbbing: the hatred Ra Mi carried for her, the weight of guilt Mi Rae carried for herself. Their parents' deaths had carved an unspoken wall between them, one Ra Mi would never forgive, and Mi Rae would never escape.
Ra Mi had been given a better life after, adopted by parents who were well-off, while Mi Rae had been left to scrape by in poverty. Maybe that was the universe's way of balancing the scales. Maybe that's why Mi Rae never fought Ra Mi's disdain.
When the silence finally suffocated her, Mi Rae whispered, "I was fired." Her voice cracked, but she forced the words out. "At least now… I won't be writing dangerous things anymore."
Ra Mi flicked her eyes toward her, just for a moment, before scoffing. "I told you. You don't belong in that space."
Mi Rae bit her lip. Her chest tightened, but she forced herself to speak. "I never really belonged anywhere. But… I wanted this one thing to work. I wanted to report the truth. I wanted…" Her voice cracked, the words catching in her throat. She couldn't cry, not in front of Ra Mi. Never again.
Her sister's gaze stayed on the road, cold as usual. "So what now? What are you planning?"
Mi Rae's hands twisted in her lap. The truth was, she had nothing. The job was the only thing keeping her sane, the only thing anchoring her from falling into the dark thoughts that clawed at her every night. Without it, she didn't know if she could hold herself together.
But she wasn't about to give Ra Mi that vulnerability. "I don't know. I will just figure it out," she muttered instead. Ra Mi cleared her throat, her expression unreadable. Then, casually, as though she hadn't been tearing Mi Rae apart seconds ago, she said, "I have a job for you."
Mi Rae blinked at her, startled. "A job?"
"Yes." Ra Mi's lips twitched into the faintest smirk, though it carried no warmth. "Something that actually suits your… limited talents. Less chasing scandals, more… obedience."
Mi Rae's stomach twisted. She didn't trust that tone. Not at all.
"What kind of job?" she asked cautiously.
Ra Mi's eyes flicked toward her. "A managerial one. And if you're smart, you'll take it. Because it might be the only offer you'll get."
The stillness inside Ra Mi's car roared louder than any fiercest thunderstorm.
Mi Rae found herself with her hands pressed tightly against her knees, her gaze locked on the blur of the road outside. She didn't even bother to ask their destination; she knew better. Ra Mi only responded to questions if it suited her whim.
Her mind flickered back to the office, her desk now stripped bare, her name likely being erased from the company records as if she had never been part of it. Just once, she had fainted, just once, and that was enough to seal her fate as unreliable, weak and disposable.
A dull ache expanded in her chest, a scream threatening to break free that screamed injustice, that she had strived so hard to carve a place for herself.
But the tightening in her throat struck as it always did when emotions soared too high. So, she remained silent, a façade of calmness plastered on her face, pretending she was fine, pretending indifference.
Ra Mi's sharp gaze flicked toward her. "Don't slouch like that. You look like a beggar."
Automatically, Mi Rae straightened, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She didn't respond. She never engaged in arguments with Ra Mi, not out of agreement… heavens no… but because arguing was futile. Ra Mi was like an unyielding steel. Mi Rae was delicate, pliable paper.
As the car gradually slowed, Mi Rae glanced up. The streets here had transformed into a cleaner, quieter, polished area in an alien manner that made her feel diminutive. The building where Ra Mi parked was tall, its glass reflecting the sky like a grandiose mirror.
It was evident: she was an outsider here. She could feel it in her bones.
Ra Mi was the first to exit, slamming the door behind her without a backward glance. Mi Rae fumbled with her belongings, clutching the small box containing her few possessions like it might be the only testament to her existence.
She followed her sister inside, where the warm air enveloped her like a deceptive cocoon of comfort. The faint squeak of her shoes echoed on the floor, each sound amplifying her sensation of being an intruder.
And then…
"Ah!"
A voice broke through the air. A male voice, inviting, and laced with enthusiasm.
Mi Rae looked up to see a man approaching them. He was middle-aged, clad in a perfectly tailored suit, his eyes shimmering in a way that set her on edge. He wasn't directing his attention at Ra Mi; it was her he was focused on.
"There she is," he exclaimed, nearly laughing in excitement. His pace quickened, his gaze intent, filled with an expectation she couldn't fathom.
Mi Rae froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't recognize him. But why did he regard her as if she were someone of significance?
Turning instinctively towards Ra Mi for some clarification, she was met with her sister's steely demeanor, her arms crossed, observing, and her expression a hardened mask.
The man halted right in front of her, his grin widening.
"Miss Lim Mi Rae," he proclaimed, savoring her name as though he had rehearsed it. "At last, we meet. I can hardly believe it's happening like this."
Mi Rae felt her throat tighten.
Finally?
What was going on?