The clock on the car dashboard glowed a soft 9:50 PM. The night air in Chuncheon was cool and carried the faint, earthy scent of the surrounding Gangwon Province mountains. Kim Soo-jin shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, her hand resting on the pronounced curve of her seven-month pregnancy.

“Easy now, dear,” her mother, Park Eun-ji, murmured, her voice a tight wire of concern as she held Soo-jin’s arm, helping her out of the car. Soo-jin’s body felt heavy and unwieldy, every movement a conscious effort.

“I know, Mom. Don’t worry so much,” Soo-jin replied, a touch of affectionate exasperation in her tone. She loved her mother’s care, but tonight, it felt smothering. Behind them, the headlights of their car swept across the traditional Korean home’s facade as her husband, Hyun-woo, navigated the tricky task of parking in the narrow lane.

The family home stood silent and dark, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling restaurant they had just left. Only a dim, solitary light glowed from within.

“Min-jun must have fallen asleep with the TV on again,” Eun-ji said, more to herself than to anyone else.

Soo-jin carefully navigated the few stone steps leading to the front door, her mother’s grip a steadying anchor. She reached out and pressed the doorbell, the chime echoing faintly inside. She waited a moment, then knocked firmly on the solid wood. “Oppa? It’s us!” she called out.

Silence.

A tiny, cold knot of unease tightened in Soo-jin’s stomach. It was unlike her brother not to be waiting for them, especially knowing they were all returning together from the family dinner at his restaurant.

“Try the door, it might be open,” Eun-ji suggested, her brow furrowed.

Soo-jin pressed down on the handle. The latch gave way with a soft click. The door swung inward, revealing the dark, spacious hallway. The only illumination came from the flickering light of a television in the room to the left—Min-jun’s favorite spot.

“Min-jun-ah?” Eun-ji called out, her voice hesitant as she stepped inside and fumbled for the wall switch. The overhead light in the hallway blazed to life, banishing the shadows and making both women blink. “He must be deep asleep. The TV is so loud.”

But Soo-jin wasn’t listening. The knot in her stomach pulled tighter. The volume was too loud, a raucous game show audience laughing at a joke no one in this quiet house was hearing. It felt wrong. A violation of the home’s usual peaceful atmosphere.