The days that followed were quiet.Too quiet.
Sometimes silence was peace.Sometimes it was a warning.
This time, it was both.
It happened on a Thursday morning.
A loud crash, shouting, and the sound of furniture being thrown echoed down the hallway.The toddler sat on the floor, listening carefully.
His mother froze while holding a cup of warm tea.
"Oh no… again…" she whispered.
Then a voice broke through the thin walls:
"WE CAN'T PAY RENT! WE'RE GETTING EVICTED!"
The teenage boy yelled back:
"I TOLD YOU TO CHANGE THE BUSINESS YEARS AGO!"
The sewing shop owner roared:
"EVERYTHING FELL APART BECAUSE OF HER!"
Blaming.Always blaming.
Never reflecting.
The toddler knew people like him in his old life too—men who thought the world owed them success.
But the truth was simple:
You don't lose because others rise.You lose because you refuse to grow.
Footsteps stomped down the hallway.
The teenage boy kicked a box with tools so hard it slid across the floor and hit the wall by their door.
Then—silence.
Heavy.Defeated.
The sewing shop was finished.
And the toddler?He watched, unblinking.
This wasn't victory.
It was a reminder:
When you build your life on control and cruelty,it only takes one small spark to collapse everything.
And he had been that spark.
His mother sat on the floor, shaken by the noise.Her hands trembled slightly.
He climbed into her lap and placed his small hands on both her cheeks.
"Mama… safe now."
She froze.
Her pupils widened.
"You… you said that… so clearly…"
He blinked innocently.
She pulled him into a shaking embrace.
"Don't grow too fast," she whispered into his hair. "I'm scared people will notice… I'm scared they'll take you away…"
He hugged her in silence.
He wanted to say:
Let them try.
But he held back.
That afternoon, her phone rang again.
She hesitated before answering—her voice still soft and tired.
"H-Hello?"
"Mrs. Seo!" Mirin said excitedly, "Our head office made a decision!"
His mother's heart raced."A decision…?"
"Yes! They want to test a small exclusive collection of your wallets. A LIMITED EDITION series. We want to feature your name as the maker."
His mother's hands shook. "M-My name…?"
"Yes! 'Handcrafted by Seo Hana.' We'll place the label inside each product."
Her eyes filled with tears instantly.
"H-How many… do you want…?"
"For now? Thirty pieces. But if they sell out, your name will become part of our brand's story. We'll increase orders."
Her breaths came fast.
"Thirty… with my name…"
"Yes! You're not just a supplier now—you're a partner."
She dropped to her knees, hand over her heart.
"I… I don't know what to say…"
"Say you'll accept."
"I accept…" she whispered.
He watched her silently.
Her hands covering her mouth.Her body trembling.Her eyes dripping with disbelief.
This was what she deserved.
Recognition.Respect.Stability.A future.
The boutique was giving her a chance to step out of poverty.
And he would make sure she walked through that door without fear.
Across the city, the businessman who noticed the wallet sales earlier sat in his office, reviewing a list.
A list with her name on it now.
"Seo Hana. Age 23. Single mother. No stable job history. Lives in a low-income area."
His assistant asked, "Should we reach out to her directly?"
He tapped his fingers on the desk.
"Not yet. First, find out who she's working for."
"The boutique?"
"Yes. I want a meeting with their director."
The assistant blinked."Is it that serious?"
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Handmade craft trends are rising. Small creators are gaining popularity. If this woman is talented… we need her."
He leaned forward.
"And if someone else gets her first?We lose an income channel."
His smile was thin.
"Move quickly."
A storm was brewing elsewhere—one his mother had no idea about.
That night, as his mother brought in the laundry from the rooftop, the gossip lady appeared again.
Not shouting.Not mocking.
Calm.
Which was worse.
"Oh, you look happy," she said with a fake smile.
His mother swallowed nervously. "I'm just… grateful."
"That boutique man came again today… didn't he?"
His mother stiffened.
"H-He came… but only for business—"
The gossip woman stepped closer.
"Be careful with men like him."
His mother frowned. "What… do you mean?"
"Rich men don't do things for free. They always want something."
Her voice dropped low.
"And women like you… are easy to use."
His mother recoiled as if slapped.
"No! He's a good person—"
The gossip woman leaned in.
"Happiness never lasts for people like us.Don't forget that."
Then she walked away.
The toddler watched her until she turned the corner.
In his past life, he knew people like her too—
People who couldn't stand seeing others climb out of misery.People who dragged others down to avoid feeling small.
He looked at his mother.
She was trembling.Again.
And something inside him shifted.
He would not let these people break her spirit again.
Late that night, while he slept in her arms, his mother whispered into the dark:
"Why can't people just… be happy for others…?"
She didn't know.
But he did.
And the businessman across the city?The gossip woman?The sewing shop owner?Even the neighbors…Even the boy?
They were all pieces on a board.
A board he would soon learn to control.
Because the world was noticing his mother's rise.And soon…they would notice him too.
And when they did?
He would not hide anymore.
He would rise.