Taking one last look around, I spot the last few things I need to take: the radio clock, Mom’s old festival dress, and the jewelry box with her necklace with the pendant and earrings inside. I already have my ID and important papers.
Good. That’s everything.

As I'm throwing my backpack over my shoulder, I look one last time at the room and walk out. This is it—my goodbye to this place.

I walk down the hallway towards the front door. Her voice stops me.

“Aw shit.”

Mom: “Oh, sweetie. I hope you didn’t take any of that misunderstanding to heart. Ron and I just want you to feel like a real part of the family.”

She’s saying it in that same sickeningly sweet tone she once used when she tried to get me to eat the food she’d poisoned. If I hadn’t noticed something was off that day, I wouldn’t have lived to see the next one.

Mom: “When you come home after school today, why don’t we sit down and have dinner like a real family? It’s been a while since we’ve done that. What do you say?”

She’s smiling like her life depends on it, like she hasn't been pretending for years.

“Of course, Mom. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Why not play along as the sweet daughter?

As I'm walking, my voice is steady—even as I pass the door—knowing damn well I’d never be back. And the next time this house saw me, it would be sold.

As I'm outside standing here, I can't help but feel overwhelmed. It's just like it was five years ago. The streetlight bulb is broken in front of my house. The nosy neighbors across the street are looking out the blinds. That one homeless man who rummages through everyone's trash while they’re at work.

I've really come back.

Knocking myself back into the present, I set off toward Lawyer Kim’s office. In my past life, Mom had him draft everything. He was the one who uncovered my aunt’s scheme and the one who pulled me out of their hands. The most reliable person I’d ever met. Even after building a name for himself, he kept his promise to my mom—the woman who gave him his first chance back when he was just a broke student who hadn’t even taken the bar exam yet.

As I approach his office building, my thoughts start to hit me all at once.
It seems smaller now than it was back then. The bricks seem older too. The smell of cheap coffee drifting from the door—the same scent I remember so well.

But this time, the feeling is different. It isn't just nostalgia—it’s heavily laced with regret and guilt. Especially since this man died because of me back then. His loyalty and that cheap coffee scent were all I had left of him after his death.

This time, if I want to save him—and preserve my memories of him—I need to act fast. I have to get him to be my lawyer again. I have to do it before that incident happens, before everything goes wrong and he is taken from me for good this time.

Taking a steady breath, I step forward, my hand on the door. The familiar sound of a bell jingling as I push it open echoes in the small space.

And then, there she is.

Mrs. Potts: “Welcome to Kim Law Firm. How can I help you?”

“Mrs. Potts.” The words slip out before I even realize.

Mrs. Potts: “Why yes… have we met before, dear?”

“Uhm, no. Actually, I called earlier about legal services, and you gave me your name. I remembered it because… your voice reminded me of someone I once lost.”

Mrs. Potts: “Oh, deary me. I'm so sorry to hear that. You know, my Gram once told me that you meet some people who pass by like a train—just coming and going so quickly.

And sometimes, you meet people who are like a lake—they seem to stay still in your life and offer calm and peace to it.”

Mrs. Potts: “Yes, that’s right, my Gram would say that. Child, are you sure we never met?”

“Quite sure, ma’am, but I'd be happy to introduce myself formally. My name is Angela. Angela Moore.”

Mrs. Potts: “Like Angel? Such a beautiful name for a beautiful young woman. Well, Miss Angela, how can I help you?”

“I want to see Mr. Kim. I don't have an appointment, but he's the executor of my mother’s will, and I've run into a bit of an emergency. I need him to assist me in the way he promised my mom he would—if I ever needed it.”

Mrs. Potts: “Oh now, that sounds serious. Give me a second and have a seat. I'm going to run back here and see what I can do. He has a packed schedule today, so don’t get your hopes up, but he's a reasonable man with a kind heart. He may just have you wait until he's free. I'll be back,” she says as she walks away.

I'm still overwhelmed by seeing Mrs. Potts—so much so I can't help but whisper, “Take care of yourself this time around.”

She was a lovely woman, no older than sixty, but she left this world after walking home one night when a reckless driver, under the influence, did a hit-and-run. He didn’t call emergency services, which could have saved her. She laid there in pain, bleeding for hours with no one to help her. He got off scot-free because he was a politician's son.

I remember his face to this day—how it looked right before I slit his throat. The fear in his eyes. The fact he didn’t even recall who she was until I explained it to him made me angrier at the time. What’s worse is that he kept repeating "My fate is not in your hands."

Slitting his throat isn't even justice for what he did to her.

As long as last time doesn’t repeat itself, he won’t have to worry about me coming for him, and we won’t have to lose her again.

As I am deep in my thoughts, I’m pulled out of them by a familiar voice that seems too good to be true.

“Ms. Moore.”

A sense of panic rises within me. I lift my head to see him in front of me.

Without thinking, I leap out of my seat, throwing myself into his arms, hugging him tightly, and start crying.

It’s really him. He’s in front of me. It’s not a dream or hell. This is real.

As I bawl my eyes out, I can't see Mr. Kim’s face. I’m sure he’s so confused.

Mrs. Potts: “Oh dear, what did you do, Henry?”

Lawyer Kim: “I didn’t do anything. I just got out here, just like you.”

I can hear the panic in their voices. That same concern they had back then too.

Mrs. Potts: “Well, a young girl isn’t going to cry like this unless something has happened. Sweetie, come now.”

Mrs. Potts manages to get me off Mr. Kim and walk me to his office. She brings me some fruit tea. As we sit at his desk, opposite each other, what feels like an eternity passes before he finally speaks.

Lawyer Kim: “I wasn’t expecting you until ten days from now—let alone what just happened here.”

That same kind and steady voice again.

Tears are blurring my vision as I speak, my voice is cracking.

“She’s trying to take everything my mother left for me. This morning, she tried to sell me to her boyfriend with the threat of kicking me out. He threatened me also when I disclosed I knew about the trust my mom left me.”

Mr. Kim staring at me is good. His confusion and disbelief are good too. This is the motivation he needs to help me fast.

“Mr. Kim, I know you’ve been keeping tabs on me because of the promise you made to my real mom. I need you to keep that promise today. Please—save me. I need to sell the house and take legal control of my inheritance.”

Looking at his face, I see the anger. That same anger that pushes him to help.

Lawyer Kim:“You’ve always been sharp—even when you were just a little thing,” he says.

He knows I'm trying to manipulate him into helping.

Lawyer Kim: “Now start from the top. I want every detail of what’s been going on behind closed doors. All of it. If I’ve missed something, I want to know exactly what—and why.”