The mansion was quiet when Taekyun returned that evening.
But from the hallway near the staircase, faint sounds of crying drifted through small, muffled sobs that cut straight through the silence.
He paused, fingers loosening the buttons of his coat.
A servant quickly stepped forward, bowing deeply as she took it from him.
"Still not calm?"
He asked quietly.
The maid hesitated before answering, voice low and careful.
"No, sir. Miss Haru hasn't eaten since morning… and she didn't go to school either."
Taekyun's expression hardened, his jaw tightening.
"School?"
The maid lowered her head even more. "She… skipped, sir."
He didn't say another word. Just turned and started walking down the hall his steps firm, heavy, echoing off the polished floor.
When he opened Haru's room door, the crying stopped instantly.
Inside,
Haru sat curled in Bora's arms, face buried against her chest.
"Haru,"
Taekyun's voice was low, steady, but his eyes were sharp.
"Get up and come here."
The little girl froze.
Her grip on Bora's shirt tightened as she hid her face deeper.
Bora looked at Taekyun carefully, her tone soft but anxious.
"Sir, please… let me talk to her. She's still....."
"Bora."
Taekyun's voice cut through the air, calm but final. "Go out."
Bora hesitated, lips parting to speak, but one look at him silenced her. She nodded, whispering a soft,
"Yes, sir."
Gently, she pried Haru's small hands from her sleeve.
"It's okay,"
she whispered, brushing the girl's hair back. "Just listen to your father, okay?"
As Bora left, she gave one last worried glance over her shoulder before closing the door.
Taekyun sat down on the couch, long legs stretched out, hands clasped together.
"Haru," he said again, quieter this time. "Come here."
Haru didn't move at first.
She stood in the corner, small shoulders trembling.
Her lips pressed tightly together, eyes red but fierce as they met her father's.
That glare it wasn't loud or rebellious.
It was quiet, accusing, and it burned through him.
Taekyun exhaled slowly.
"Come here," he repeated, his tone gentler now.
Haru hesitated, then walked toward him, steps small and uncertain.
Outside,
Bora stood with the servants, hands nervously twisting the edge of her apron.
The silence stretched until, after barely fifteen minutes, the door opened.
Taekyun came out, his expression unreadable.
"Bora."
She stepped forward immediately.
"Yes, sir?"
"Pack Haru's bag,"
He said, buttoning his coat again.
"She'll be staying for a while with her grandparents."
The room fell silent. The servants exchanged glances confused, shocked even.
Bora swallowed hard.
"Sir… you mean with the"
She caught herself, choosing her words carefully, "With Mr kim and Mrs Kim?"
Taekyun nodded once.
"But, sir," Bora tried again,
"Miss Haru"
"In this way," Taekyun interrupted, his tone calm but unyielding,
"she'll forget what's been bothering her. It's better this way."
Bora bowed her head slowly.
"Yes, sir."
It wasn't unusual for Haru to spend time with her grandparents. She loved them perhaps more than anyone.
Despite their strictness, they softened for her in ways no one else ever saw.
But this time… it felt different.
Even the servants could feel it.
Because Taekyun, no matter what happened, never liked sending Haru away.
He always kept her close.
Always.
Then why now?
[Next Morning]
Bora gently helped Haru into her dress, brushing her hair into neat braids.
The girl stayed quiet, unusually calm, her eyes distant.
Bora's mind couldn't stop circling back to last night.
What had Taekyun said to her?
Why was she so still, so unlike herself?
Once ready,
Haru walked downstairs holding her little bear tightly.
Taekyun was already in the living room, dressed and seated on the couch, eyes on his iPad.
When he saw her, he put it aside and stood.
Haru stopped a few steps away, bowing slightly.
He nodded once. "Let's go."
He opened the car door for her himself, guiding her gently into the front seat.
Belt fastened, bear placed carefully in her lap, he closed the door and moved to the driver's side.
The drive was long nearly two hours.
Neither of them spoke.
Outside the windows, the city gave way to long roads and open hills. Until,
Traditional rooftops came into view the Gwanrim Hanok Estate,
One of the oldest family residences still standing, known for its vast gardens and quiet strength.
Inside the car, though, it felt like silence itself was breathing.
A father and daughter close in blood, far in heart.