Chapter 2– The Child in Her Arms
Even darkness has a voice.
My voice was like the screech of metal.
I don't remember his face.
I don't remember his voice.
I don't even remember why we were in that car…
I only remember a warm hand pressed against my stomach—protective, anxious—
and someone shouting my name.
"S—!"
The voice cuts off before I can hear the full name.
Then the world shakes.
The windshield shatters like falling stars.
The car spins. I can't recall what happens!.. Ah!
My head hits something—cold, hard—
and the world goes quiet.
No… not quiet.
There's a heartbeat.
Not mine.
A small one.
Inside me.
I want to save it.
It's connected with me
I don't know who I'm trying to save.
I don't know who the man next to me is.
But I feel it in my chest—
Fear.
Terror.
Protective
Then everything goes blurry.
I wake up gasping for air.
Bright white lights sting my eyes.
My body feels stitched together with pain.
Something warm is resting on my chest.
I blink.
A baby.
A little boy with dark eyelashes and soft, warm breaths.
His tiny hand is resting on my heart as if holding it in place.
"Ma'am… can you hear me?"
A nurse approaches. Her voice sounds distant. "You were in a huge accident."
I open my mouth—
but only a broken whisper comes out.
"…Where… am I…?"
"Seoul Central Hospital. You've been unconscious for three days."
Three days?
I look at the baby again. His little fist opens and closes around my shirt. As if they are trying to hold me ...
My chest tightens in a way that feels both familiar and painful.
"Your son is healthy," the nurse says softly. "He was right next to you."
My… son? My baby?
The word stings my mind like an electric shock.
I… have a son?
Why don't I remember?
"What's… his name?"
My voice trembles.
"You told us his name was Rio before you passed out."
I told them?
I don't even remember saying anything. I don't remember anything. I don't know about the name I told them ..
Not the accident.
Not the man next to me. He save me and my baby..
Not this child's father.
Not the last two years of my life.
Only my name.
Only the feeling of being chased by a dark shadow that I can't see.
I hold Rio tighter.
I don't know who took care of whom…
But the way he clings to me…
Maybe he saved me.
Days passed.
I learn to walk on shaky legs.
I learn that my memory loss is "selective trauma amnesia."
I learn that my family didn't come to see me.
They didn't even call.
The doctors tell me they were "out of reach."
Lies.
I can feel it.
Whenever I close my eyes, the accident flashes before me—
The man's hand on my stomach,
His fear,
The screech of tires—
But his face is blurry.
Ryo cries when I'm not around.
He refuses to leave my side.
The child in my arms is....
my child.. as ...
As if he knows something I don't.
Maybe he remembers the man who died.
Maybe he remembers what I've forgotten.
Maybe he remembers the truth.
A week later… I leave the hospital. I sign the papers with trembling hands. I walk out with Rio in my arms, alone, cold, scared—but breathing.
I don't go home.
Because I don't know where my "home" is anymore.
And something deep inside me says...
I shouldn't go back.
So I rent a small apartment with my savings.
I find a cheap crib.
I buy groceries.
I breathe.
I survive.
That's all I can do.
That night, as I was feeding Rio warm milk, he suddenly touched my cheek with his little palm.
As if comforting me.
As if saying:
Don't cry, Mom.
But the tears still fall.
Because somewhere out there, because of me a man died with me in that car.
A man I should remember.
A man whose blood runs through this child's veins.
A man whose name is etched somewhere in the darkness of my lost memories.
But I don't remember him. I only remember the sound of the crash. And the feeling of losing something I never even had a chance to
To Be Continued