Zoya and Minji stood outside the Admin Office.
Minji knocked softly before opening the door.
> "May I come in?"
Inside, the room was almost empty, except for one staff member — Mr. Baek Hoon, the admin assistant — sitting behind his desk, flipping through a few papers.
Before Zoya could speak, Minji stepped forward politely.
> "We were called to the admin office, but there's no one here—"
Mr. Baek looked up, checked the sheet in front of him, and asked quietly,
> "Ms. Zoya?"
Minji turned to Zoya and nodded toward him.
> "Yes, she's Zoya."
Mr. Baek tapped his pen once against the paper.
> "Only one name is listed here — Zoya. You're to report to the Dean's Office."
He didn't say anything else, his eyes already back on the computer screen.
Outside, as they walked down the corridor, Minji frowned slightly.
Something about this didn't feel right.
> "You'll have to go alone," she said softly. "They probably won't let me in."
> "No," Zoya said quickly. "Please come with me. If they ask why you're there, just say you came to support me — tell them you requested to stay."
Minji hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
> "Alright, I'll come. I want to know what's happening anyway."
Both of them headed toward the Dean's Office together.
Zoya's heart was beating fast. Since the day she had joined the university, she'd been careful — especially after everything that happened with Bamson.
But what if it really was about him?
She hadn't left any proof — no photos, no messages — yet the uneasy feeling in her chest told her this was serious.
When they reached the Dean's door, Zoya took a deep breath and knocked gently.
> "May I come in?"
As soon as she stepped inside, her breath froze.
The room wasn't empty.
There were several senior officials seated around the long wooden table:
Mrs. Han Soo-jin (Hostel Warden)
Professor Lee Byung-ho (Head of Student Affairs)
Dr. Park Min-seok (Dean of Faculty)
Mr. Kang Dae-hyun (Public Relations Officer)
Professor Choi Hyun-woo (Business Ethics & Communication)
Professor Aamir Rehman (Visiting Lecturer – International Management)
And on the chairs lined against the wall — Ji-won was sitting quietly, her eyes lowered, phone in her hands.
Zoya's heartbeat stumbled.
She didn't need anyone to tell her now — she knew.
This was about Bamson.
Because the call Mr. Jea received that day…
Zoya suddenly wished she hadn't asked Minji to come.
The room fell silent when she entered. Every heartbeat sounded louder than the ticking clock.
> "Ms. Zoya?"
> "Yes, sir," she answered softly.
The Dean's eyes shifted toward Minji, but before he could speak, Zoya stepped forward quickly.
> "She's with me, please… let her stay."
They didn't argue. The Dean simply nodded.
> "Alright, Zoya. Please, have a seat."
A single empty chair stood in the center. Zoya sat down, while Minji was directed to a chair beside Ji-won.
Mrs. Han Soo-jin leaned forward slightly, her tone firm.
> "Ms. Zoya, do you know Ji-won?"
> "Yes," Zoya replied quietly. "She used to live in the left-side dorm of our hostel. Now we've moved out and live together in a shared house."
> "We?" Mrs. Han repeated. "You're not living alone?"
> "No, ma'am," Zoya said respectfully. "We're five friends — my two roommates, Minji, and roommate."
She glanced toward Minji as she spoke.
Mrs. Han turned toward the Dean.
> "I think we should move to the main point now."
The Dean gave a small nod.
> "Zoya, do you know Bamson?"
That one question confirmed it.
Her fear was right.
This was about him.
And the question that proved it left Minji frozen in her seat.
Zoya's voice came out barely above a whisper.
> "Y… yes."
Before anyone could ask more, Minji stood up.
> "Sir, if you don't mind, can I explain what you're referring to?"
The Dean exchanged a brief look with the others and nodded permission.
Minji took a small breath, sat beside Zoya again, and began.
She told everything — how they had found Bamson, how the five of them, who had just become friends, rescued him, sneaked him into the hostel through a window, fed him secretly with food from the mess, and kept him hidden for two weeks.
She told them that two days ago, on Friday, Bamson was in the room while four of them went out shopping and only Zoya stayed behind.
When they came back, Bamson was gone.
Someone must have informed Mr. Jea, and the rest of the story they already knew.
Minji ended her explanation quietly, her voice trembling. The memory of Bamson still pulled at her heart.
Mrs. Han adjusted her glasses.
> "Ms. Minji, did you ask Zoya how Bamson got out?"
> "Yes, ma'am," Minji replied. "Zoya said she went to the hostel store, and maybe the door wasn't properly closed. Either Bamson walked out, or someone saw him and took him."
Minji's tone stayed honest — repeating exactly what Zoya had told her.
The Dean then turned toward Ji-won.
> "Ms. Ji-won, please tell us your side."
Ji-won stood up slowly and walked behind Zoya and Minji's chairs.
> "Sir, Zoya came to me on Friday morning…"
She paused. "Let me check the exact time—"
She started to open her bag, but Professor Choi stopped her.
> "No need for the time, Ji-won. Just continue."
She nodded quickly.
> "Okay, sir. Zoya asked to use my phone that morning because her number wasn't active. She said she needed to make an important call. I gave her my phone, and she went outside."
The Dean interrupted gently.
> "If Zoya went outside to make the call, how do you know who she called?"
> "Sir," Ji-won said carefully, "later that evening I got a call from Mr. Jea — Jeon.J's personal assistant. He said he had received a call from my number that morning. I realized it must've been Zoya, because I hadn't left the room all day. I only went out later when he himself came to take Bamson. My phone was always near me. That's how I knew — she must have made that call."
Professor Choi leaned forward, voice calm but serious.
> "How do you know for sure it was her?"
> "Because Mr. Jea confirmed it," Ji-won replied. "He said the girl who called used my number, told him about Bamson, and gave details. I didn't even know about it until then."
The room went still again.
Every gaze turned toward Zoya.
Even Minji looked at her, disbelief filling her eyes. Please say it's not true, she silently prayed.
Zoya lowered her head and spoke quietly, her voice trembling but clear.
> "Ji-won is telling the truth."
Minji's eyes widened — the shock raw on her face. She quickly looked down, but her heart was heavy.
Zoya continued, trying to finish before her courage broke.
> "I saw Jeon.J's post that morning — the one about Bamson missing. The number for updates was written in the caption. I noted it down and called to tell them about Bamson. When Mr. Jea came to collect him, I quietly let Bamson out of the room. The rest you all already know. My only intention was to return him to his owner. He wasn't happy with us anymore… and I thought that was the right thing to do."
Her voice faded at the end.
Minji stood abruptly, asked the Dean's permission to leave, and walked out without another word.
Zoya stayed seated, answering a few more formal questions quietly.
Finally, the Dean leaned back in his chair, his tone softer now.
> "Mr. Jea — Jeon.J's PA — called us personally. He requested that no disciplinary action be taken. Bamson is safe, and so are they."
The meeting ended.
When Zoya walked out of the Dean's Office, the corridor felt longer than before.
Minji was gone.
And for the first time, Zoya realized that even when a storm ends, it leaves behind silence — heavy enough to shake what's left of the heart.
On the other side of Busan, night had fallen quietly over the hills.
Inside the small house, Jeon.J sat on the edge of the couch with Bamson resting beside him. Tonight, he had to leave for Seoul — a trip that couldn't be delayed — and as always, he couldn't imagine leaving without Bamson.
> "Come on, Bamson… let's change your clothes,"
he said softly, unbuttoning the tiny sweater around the dog's neck.
But as his fingers moved across the buttons, something unusual brushed against his hand from the inside. Bamson wagged his tail, nudging his nose toward the sweater as if trying to say something.
Jeon.J frowned slightly and turned the sweater inside out.
There — hidden along the inner seam — was a small piece of white paper carefully folded and stuck in place.
His heartbeat slowed.
Gently, he peeled it off and unfolded the note.
It was written by hand — the ink slightly smudged — and though he couldn't yet read it, he could feel that it carried something… personal. Something meant for him.
Meanwhile, across the city, Zoya sat on her bed, holding a pen that had long paused over a blank page.
She had been trying to write — to put her heart into words — but nothing felt right. Too many thoughts, too many feelings, and no beginning strong enough to hold them all.
After a long silence, she closed her eyes and let her heart lead.
This time, she didn't think. She just wrote. Line after line, she poured everything out — her gratitude, her prayers, her emotions that had no shape in English or Korean.
She wrote it all in Urdu — the only language that could carry the weight of her heart.
Because she believed that some emotions weren't meant to be translated.
They could only be felt.
And somewhere, on the other side of Busan, Jeon.J held that very note — still unaware that the words in his hands were the unspoken voice of the girl who once prayed for him in silence.
To be Continue....
Regards
ZK💌