A few days had passed since Jun-hyuk moved his room to the first floor, but Yuri and Jun-hyuk barely ran into each other. Unlike Jun-hyuk, who always stayed late studying in the advanced class, Yuri regularly skipped night self-study, ate dinner at home, and went to bed early. Because her father worked late so often, dinners were usually just a quiet affair between Yuri and her mother. Her mother, whose life revolved strictly around her home, piano lessons, and psychiatric visits, had as little to say as Yuri, who never showed a shred of sincerity toward grades or extracurriculars.

During their usual silent dinner, Yuri finally broke the silence.

"Mom, Jun-hyuk is stealing my stuff."

Her mother paused, lifting her eyes to look at Yuri. "What did he take?"

"Just… things from my desk. This and that."

Yuri twirled her hair with her left hand, letting her voice trail off. Her mother stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft, weary sigh. She returned to her meal, answering nonchalantly.

"Look for them again. You probably just misplaced them in your room."

A sudden surge of resentment flared up inside Yuri. She couldn't stand the fact that even her own mother didn't believe her. Of course, Yuri hadn't actually lost anything. She never studied at home, so she never left anything on her desk to begin with. But that didn't matter. The raw fact that her mother didn't take her side made her emotions boil over.

"No, they're gone! My eraser, highlighters, and white-out are all gone!"

As Yuri’s voice rose in agitation, her mother looked up, her eyes deeply bloodshot with exhaustion. "Yuri, please."

"This isn't right!"

"Fine. I'll talk to him. Just eat your dinner."

"Don't just talk to him! You need to punish him!"

Yuri slammed her spoon onto the table. The utensil struck the pristine glass tabletop with a sharp, shattering clang. Her mother stood up, trying to soothe her.

"Alright. I get it, so calm down and eat."

At eleven that night, the moment Heo Jun-hyuk walked through the front door, her mother sat him down at the living room table. Her father was away frequently due to corporate dinners and business trips, and tonight happened to be one of those nights he wouldn't be returning.

"Be honest with me," her mother started. "Since you moved into this house, have you ever stolen anything?"

Yuri cracked her bedroom door open, peeking at the two of them. She could see her mother's stern expression, but only the rigid line of Jun-hyuk's back.

"No," Jun-hyuk replied, his voice flat and exhausted.

"I’m going to need to look through your room."

"...Why?"

"Some items have gone missing."

Exhausted from hours of studying, Jun-hyuk let out a heavy, deliberate sigh.

"Ma'am, I am tired enough just trying to keep up with school. I have never stolen a thing. If you think I'm a thief, discuss it with my father and kick me out."

Ever since he claimed the rank of number one in the entire school, Jun-hyuk’s attitude toward her mother had grown remarkably bold. The moment he finished speaking, he marched into his room. Her mother, remembering the boy who used to take beatings in absolute silence after pouring milk into the grand piano, was left utterly stunned by this unexpected defiance.

"Why, you little...!"

Her mother grabbed the doorknob, but Jun-hyuk had already turned the lock. Ever since Kang-hoon had taken his side, Jun-hyuk no longer shrank back. His shoulders were squared; his spine was perfectly straight. To think that a pathetic loser who used to cry and lean on me in the basement now walks around with his head held high, acting like he’s a legitimate son.

Yuri clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms.

A mere bastard child. How dare he hold his head up high?

A violent fury swept through her, far worse than the time the cat had left feces in front of her door and shed its fur everywhere. The moment she slammed her bedroom door shut, she began hurling everything within arm's reach—her mood light, tissues, portable chargers—smashing them blindly against the walls. During dinner, her mother hadn't shared her anger, nor had she fully backed her up. And now, a bastard whose bloodline didn't even compare to hers had the audacity to stand tall. The fact that nothing had actually been stolen was entirely irrelevant. Yuri panted heavily, her rage entirely unappeased.

The following day, Yuri skipped night self-study once again and returned home. Her cramps were exceptionally brutal that day; even after swallowing four painkillers, a dull, throbbing ache pulsed through her lower abdomen. The living room was bathed in soft, dim lighting, and the maid was quietly guiding a cordless vacuum across the marble floor. Faint television dialogue and low background music drifted from her mother's room, suggesting she was catching up on a drama.

Yuri crept down the hallway. After scanning her surroundings, she deadened her footsteps and slipped Jun-hyuk's door open.

His room was immaculate. Workbooks were stacked neatly on the desk, the blanket on the bed was folded with sharp edges, and his pencil cases were perfectly aligned atop the locker. Yuri reached into her pocket and brought something out, letting it rest on her palm. After a brief, calculated hesitation, she slid it deep above the textbooks tightly packed into his bookshelf. She cracked the door to check the hallway, stepped out undetected, and walked over to Mrs. Yoon, the maid cleaning near the end of the hall.

"Excuse me. Could you clean Jun-hyuk's room as well?"

The maid nodded. "Yes, of course."

Yuri added with a sweet, casual smile, "He's been studying so hard lately... I figured he probably forgot to ask you himself."

Satisfied, Yuri glided across the living room and retreated into her own quarters. She collapsed onto her bed, pulling the duvet all the way up to her chin and curling into a tight ball. A delicious, tingling sensation fluttered in her chest. Like a mischievous child anticipating a grand prank, Yuri buried half her face into her pillow, a dark smile spreading across her lips.

It didn't take long before the hum of the vacuum abruptly cut out, cut short by a sharp, horrified shriek.

"What on earth is this?!"

A few seconds later, her mother threw her bedroom door open, rushing out. "What's happening?!"

The maid stood frozen, pointing a trembling finger toward the bookshelf. Her mother’s gaze followed the line of her hand. And at the very end of that gaze, her mother let out a bloodcurdling scream.