"Some petals are soft. Some cut like glass."
Jung Yena didn't open the flash drive.
Not yet.
She sat with it cradled in her hands like a bomb — one she knew would explode the moment she dared to know too much.
The camellia petal was almost powder now.
Like the truth had been crushed under silence too long.
And that bloodstained note?
She'd folded it once. Twice.
As if folding it could make the fear smaller too.
---
Dayeon watched rain collect on the edge of a windowsill in a strange apartment.
Not hers.
But familiar.
She hadn't slept. Couldn't.
The man from the car had given her instructions. A warning.
"Do your part. Or you'll lose everything too."
She wasn't scared.
Not anymore.
She was tired of watching from the sidelines.
And tired of remembering what she didn't do the night Doyun died.
There were things she had to fix — or erase.
---
Chairman Kang's Office
The photo was gone.
The matchbox was gone.
But the scent of smoke still lingered.
Chairman Kang stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the city like he owned it.
Behind him, Junho entered.
"Problem?" the chairman asked without turning.
Junho smirked.
"The ghost is waking up."
"Let her," the chairman said. "If she's smart, she'll stop."
"And if she doesn't?"
A long pause.
"Then she'll die like the last one."
---
Haejin's Apartment
Haejin couldn't stop watching it.
The video.
His brother's voice — quieter than he remembered.
But certain. Sharp.
"If Appa tries to silence me, check the place with the mirrors. That's where the first secret lives."
The place with the mirrors…
Haejin froze.
There was a place.
His mother's old art studio.
Abandoned. Locked up since the funeral.
His fists clenched.
And for the first time in years — he didn't feel cold.
He felt angry.
---
Yena finally gathered the courage to plug in the flash drive.
It beeped once.
Loaded slowly.
A single folder appeared.
It was titled: CAMELLIA.
She opened it.
Inside were five separate files, but she didn't see them as files.
They were pieces of Doyun.
Pieces of the truth.
The first was a photograph — Doyun standing beside a boy whose arms were bruised and face was blurred.
Next came a hospital report — injuries. Unexplained. A name blacked out.
Then a long, typed list of names — some underlined. Others crossed out in red.
After that, a scanned letter in Doyun's handwriting. It began with:
"If you're reading this, it means I didn't make it."
And last — an audio file.
She hovered over it, finger trembling.
Then clicked play.
"Yena… if you're hearing this, it means they didn't let me leave. They said they'd protect me if I kept quiet. But I can't.
Your mom once told me — 'Truth grows like a weed. It'll find the sun eventually.'
So if you're listening… you're the sun now."
Yena's hand flew to her mouth.
Her mom…?
---
Meanwhile — Seri
Seri stood outside her door, frozen.
A package had been slipped underneath.
She picked it up slowly.
Inside was a flower — freshly cut.
A note — burnt along the edge.
And a photo.
Of her.
Taken the night Doyun died.
And behind her…a shadow.
Someone she hadn't realized was there.
"Remember yet?" the note said.
Seri's lips trembled.
And finally… she did.
---
Mirror Room
Haejin unlocks a dusty door with trembling fingers.
The art studio is filled with broken glass and forgotten canvases.
The air smells like turpentine and memories.
On the far wall — mirrors.
Covered. Cracked.
He pulls a cloth down. Dust rises.
Etched behind the glass:
"Find the girl in the hoodie."
He turns.
And his own reflection stares back.
But in the mirror behind him…
Something moves.
---