A gunshot split the night.
For a heartbeat, the world went silent. Then — red.
Blood spread across Do Hwan's white shirt like a blooming flower. He staggered, shock flashing across his face, then collapsed to one knee.
"Do Hwan!" Jongsuk shouted, instinct dragging him forward — but Jaeahn's mother lifted the gun again, eyes wild.
"Take another step," she hissed, voice trembling with rage, "and the next bullet goes into Jaeahn's leg. Stay where you are."
Jongsuk froze.
He slowly dropped to his knees. His voice cracked.
"Please… please. Let them go. Jaeahn is bleeding too much — she'll die. Don't do this."
But she didn't listen. Her hands shook, but her madness was stronger.
"You call yourself human?" Jongsuk growled, tears filling his eyes. "You're insane. A crazy, cruel—"
His voice broke. Rage burned in him, but he was trapped between fear and helplessness.
Do Hwan, despite the blood soaking his chest, stayed conscious. He tried to push himself upright.
"Jaeahn… stay awake," he whispered, but her eyes were already fluttering closed.
They shook her, called her name — but she didn't respond.
And then—
A siren screamed through the night.
Flashing red lights cut across the dark walls. Police cars screeched to a stop outside. Officers rushed in. And with them —
Eunwoo.
Flashback.
Eunwoo at the police station: exhausted, shaking, ignored.
"No one believes me?" he pleaded. "I have proof. Look."
He showed Jaeahn's phone data. GPS. Audio. Screenshots.
He begged until someone finally listened. They traced the signal….
Back to the present.
"Police! Drop the gun!"
But Jaeahn's mother snapped — panic overtook her. She shoved Jongsuk aside and grabbed Jaeahn's limp body, dragging her like a broken doll.
"Let her go!" the officers shouted.
"No!" she screamed, eyes burning. "She ruined everything!"
She forced Jaeahn into the car. The engine roared. Tires scraped. Before anyone could reach them — the car shot into the night.
Jongsuk ran.
"Get in!" he yelled to Eunwoo.
They chased, sirens echoing behind. Ambulance lights vanished in the opposite direction, carrying Do Hwan away.
On the road, Jaeahn slowly came back to consciousness — dizzy, weak, breath shaking.
Her mother drove like a madwoman. Swerving. Accelerating. Headlights cutting the darkness.
"Stop…" Jaeahn whispered. "Please… stop the car…"
If they crashed, they'd die. She knew it. But her mother only laughed — brittle, broken.
"I said stop!"
Summoning the last bit of strength, Jaeahn lunged forward from the back seat, reaching for the wheel. The car spun across the bridge, screeching metal against railing.
Impact.
Pain exploded through her entire body.
Her mother dragged her out, shoving, pulling — until they were at the very edge.
And then suddenly —
Jaeahn's mother slipped.
Her body dangled over the river, one hand barely clinging to the railing.
For a moment the world went quiet — just wind, water, distant sirens.
Jaeahn stood shaking, bleeding, barely conscious.
She could have walked away.
Instead, she reached forward.
"Take my hand," she whispered.
Her wounds tore open wider as she pulled, pain blazing through her chest and shoulders. Blood dripped down onto the concrete and over her fingers.
Footsteps.
Jongsuk and Eunwoo finally reached the bridge, breathless.
They saw her.
Jaeahn — standing at the edge, drenched in blood — holding her mother's arm, fighting gravity with everything she had left.
"Jaeahn! Leave it!" Jongsuk shouted,
running.
But then — just as she dragged her mother up over the railing — steel flashed.
A knife.
Her mother stabbed her.
The blade cut deep.
Jongsuk stopped dead.
Blood spilled from Jaeahn's mouth, nose, chest — everywhere. She swayed, but refused to let go.
Her mother's words cut colder than the knife.
"Die, Jaeahn. If you're gone, everything will finally be fine."
Jaeahn collapsed to her knees. She grabbed the railing — breath ragged, shaking.
Slowly… she climbed onto it.
"No — no!" Jongsuk cried. "Please. Don't do this. Don't leave me."
He was sobbing now. Desperate. Breaking.
"Come back down. Please. I'm right here."
Jaeahn turned her head, eyes distant — full of tiredness instead of anger.
"Can you do something for me?" she whispered.
"Anything," he said immediately. "Just come back."
"My last wish…"
"No," he choked. "It's not your last—"
She cut him off.
"Can I jump?"
Silence.
He froze. His throat closed. His heart screamed no — but the words wouldn't come fast enough.
She gave a small, sad smile.
"That's my answer."
And she pushed herself backward.
He lunged — caught her wrist — held on desperately.
"Please!" he cried. "Don't go. I like you. I—"
She slipped free.
Her body fell into the dark water below.
A hollow sound swallowed his scream.
He staggered forward, nearly jumping in — until Eunwoo grabbed him from behind.
"Don't! You'll die!"
"I liked you!" Jongsuk screamed into the night, voice ripping apart. "I liked you so much — why didn't you let me say it?!"
Rage drowned grief.
He turned — knife glinting — charging Jaeahn's mother.
Police rushed in and wrestled him down before the blow could land deep. She was dragged away in handcuffs, still laughing like a broken ghost.
And then it was quiet.
The bridge was washed in blue lights and blood.
Jongsuk sank to the ground, empty.
Something glinted near the railing — Jaeahn's phone.
He picked it up with shaking hands.
Her lock screen: the two of them, smiling.
He unlocked it.
His name in her contacts:
Mine.
He stared — then broke.
He pressed the phone to his forehead and cried like the sky had fallen.
And the night swallowed everything.