Chapter 2 : Hayeon

I spent two days lying beside my mother, holding her lifeless body. We had no relatives, no one to call for help, and I had no idea what to do. My stomach growled, the ache twisting painfully in my belly. Eventually, I realized I couldn't stay here forever. I kissed my mother's forehead one last time and set off for the market.

The market was familiar; my mother and I had often gone there together. Some of the stall owners had kind hearts and gave me food when we couldn't afford it. Thankfully, today was no different. They handed me scraps, pity in their eyes, though I couldn't bring myself to care.

By the time I returned home, the sun had set, and the street was bathed in an eerie silence, the kind that reminded me of horror movies—the quiet before the storm. But as I drew closer, that silence was shattered by voices. Blue and white lights from police cars and ambulances lit up the houses surrounding mine.

I froze, my breath hitching as I watched two body bags being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. My lips trembled, and my mind raced. What now? My gaze drifted to the police officers standing near the bloodstains where my father had fallen. A wave of terror gripped me.

Would they arrest me for stabbing him?

Panicking, I turned and ran. I ran until my lungs burned and my legs gave out beneath me. Falling to the ground, I sobbed uncontrollably, the sound of my cries echoing into the empty night.

I was alone. Completely, devastatingly alone.

As I wept, the distant sound of men's voices brought me back to the present. Laughter and slurred words grew louder. I scrambled behind a smelly trash can, gagging at the stench, and crouched low as rats scurried past my feet.

"Hey, did you see someone go down there?" one of them muttered.

"Yeah, over there," another answered, his voice laced with drunken mischief.

Their shadows stretched across the ground, creeping closer to me. My heart pounded as I realized they would find me if I didn't act fast. Desperation drove my actions. I grabbed a plastic container and hurled it in the opposite direction.

The loud crash made them pause. "What was that?" one of them said.

They turned toward the noise, and I took my chance. With quick, silent steps, I ran. But one of them spotted me.

"HEY! COME BACK HERE!" a voice shouted behind me.

Their laughter rang out, wild and predatory, as they gave chase. Panic surged through me as I darted down an empty street, my mind racing for an escape. I felt a hand grab my shirt, yanking me back. I hit the pavement hard, coughing as the air was knocked out of my lungs.

I sat up, blinking through the pain, as four men surrounded me. Each one looked more vile than the last.

"What should we do with her?" one asked, his tone gleeful.

"Sell her," another sneered. "Organs fetch a good price—eyes and kidneys especially."

My body trembled as I bit my lip, fighting back tears.

"Nah," a tall man with yellowed teeth grinned. "How about we take her for a spin?"

"Please," I whispered, my voice shaking.

The youngest of the group crouched down, gripping my chin roughly. "Relax. We're not going to sell you, and we're not gonna hurt you like that," he said, his grin cold and calculating. "We've got other plans. A kid like you could be useful for our scams. Right?"

I was too stunned to speak, so I nodded.

"Good. Now get up," he ordered, standing and motioning for me to follow.

I rose to my feet, my shoulders hunched in fear.

"I'm Lou," the younger man said, his tone almost casual. "And you are?"

"Hayeon," I whispered.

One Year Later

Lou had taken me in, giving me food and a place to stay. But there was a price. I became their "little scammer," luring people into their traps and stealing for them. I was too afraid to disobey, especially after I saw them kill a woman who had tried to help me. Her screams haunted my dreams.

That was when I decided to escape.

I lived on the streets, scavenging for food and building myself a makeshift shelter out of garbage bags, old clothes, and broken pipes. My "roof" leaked, and my only possessions were a moldy dog bed and a small candle. Every night, I dreamed of a different life—one where my mother and I were safe, where she read me bedtime stories and we lived happily.

But every morning, I woke to the harsh reality that she was gone.

The sun filtered through the small hole in my roof, the heat unbearable. My hair hung over my face, hiding the grime that clung to my skin. It helped keep the stares away as I walked through the streets.

At first, people would stop to ask if I needed help, if I was lost. But I stopped trusting adults after one man tried to exploit me. I had learned my lesson with Lou and that man: no one would save me. I had to survive on my own.

I stuck to the shadows as I reached the market. My eyes darted to a fruit stall. The vendor's gaze landed on me just as I slipped two apples into my pockets.

"Hey, you!" he barked.

I bolted, his shouts following me. "Stop! Someone catch her!"

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a large man chasing me. My heart raced as I turned back around, only to find myself in the middle of the street.

A loud horn blared, and a car screeched to a halt just inches away from me. My legs gave out, and I collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

The car door opened, and a boy stepped out. He was around my age, with piercing dark eyes and a demeanor that radiated authority far beyond his years.

"Do you need help?" he asked, his voice calm but accented.

I scowled, bitter at my string of bad luck. Who was this boy, and what did he want?