Chapter 18: Yoon Sera

Mrs. Yeo's voice called out to me early in the morning, her tone trembling with urgency.

"Sera, come down to the second floor," she said.

My heart raced as I stumbled out of bed, still drowsy, my steps hurried. What could have made her panic so much? I rushed to her side, finding her glued to the TV screen.

She gestured for me to sit beside her, her face pale and hands trembling. I followed her gaze to the screen, and the air in my lungs froze.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, staring at the breaking news. "Shin Yejoon was arrested? He killed Ryu Jia?"

Mrs. Yeo turned to me, her voice low yet firm. "Do you want to call Dohyun and Taesan?"

I shook my head, trying to compose myself. "Not now. They must be busy. Besides, they've handled everything so well. I'm relieved they finally caught the culprit. But…"

"But what?"

"Where is my brother?"

She hesitated, her eyes softening. "I hope you'll meet him soon."

Her words struck a chord of longing in my heart, but it was laced with despair. "There's no trace of him," I murmured, staring at the ground.

Just then, a soft knock on the door interrupted the silence. Before either of us could move, the door creaked open. A man stepped in, bowing politely, his face obscured by a mask and cap. But as he pulled them off, my breath caught in my throat.

It was him.

"Oppa…" was all I managed before my vision blurred, and everything went dark.

When I opened my eyes, the familiar warmth of my bed greeted me. My head felt heavy, but the sensation of someone gently holding my hand drew my attention.

There he was. Yoon Soobin, my brother, sitting by my side, his eyes filled with worry.

"Is this a dream?" I muttered weakly, my voice cracking.

A faint smile played on his lips. "I never thought my little sister would faint at the sight of me. But no, Sera, this isn't a dream. I'm here with you."

"Oppa!" I cried, sitting up and throwing my arms around him. Tears streamed down my face, unchecked, as I clung to him tightly. "Where were you all this time? Why did you leave me alone?"

His hand gently patted my back, his voice soft yet steady. "Sera, I'm sorry. I know you've suffered so much. Taesan and Dohyun told me everything. I had no choice but to stay hidden. But I promise, everything will be alright now."

I pulled back slightly, my face streaked with tears. "No, Oppa. Dad escaped. He'll come for me again—I know he will."

His expression hardened, and his hand tightened on mine protectively. "No one will hurt you while I'm here. I'll make sure of that." His voice dropped, laced with steel. "Even if I have to kill him myself for what he did to you."

"Oppa…"

He cupped my bruised arm softly, his eyes darkening with anger as he traced the marks left by our father's cruelty. Then, as if forcing himself to shift focus, he looked at me and asked, "Sera, do you think I should rebuild my idol career?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "Do you want to?"

He shook his head firmly. "No. Not without Jia. I don't want to return to a place where she no longer exists."

"What's your plan then?" I asked, my heart breaking for him.

"It's not just my plan," he said with a small, hopeful smile. "It'll be ours. Taesan offered me a position at his company."

"What?" I blinked in shock. "How long have you been hiding this from me? You met him?"

He nodded, his smile growing warmer. "I'll explain everything soon. We didn't tell you earlier because we were working on something—finding the culprit. Taesan and Dohyun did most of it, but I played my part too. And now, it's over."

He paused, looking deep into my eyes before speaking again. "Sera, I'm here now. You're not alone anymore."

For the first time in years, a flicker of safety and hope began to bloom in my heart.

I stepped out of the shower, the cool air brushing against my skin. The faint aroma of breakfast wafted through the air, guiding me to the kitchen. To my surprise, there he was—my brother, standing by the counter, a proud smile on his face as he plated the food he had prepared.

"Good morning," he greeted warmly, but then his expression shifted to something more playful. "Zixuan called you a few minutes ago."

I paused, my damp hair dripping slightly onto the floor. "Oh... Oppa, I was going to tell you about him. He mentioned you two were close when he was a trainee. He recognized me immediately."

His smile softened into something nostalgic, tinged with a sadness I couldn't quite place. "He was like my younger brother," he said, his voice low but affectionate. "I'm happy you two are friends now. I... I actually answered the call without your permission. I couldn't resist."

I shook my head with a gentle laugh. "Don't worry about it, Oppa. What did he say? Was he surprised?"

"Shocked," he admitted with a small, wistful chuckle. "The moment he heard my voice, he knew exactly who I was. We're meeting today."

"Wait..." I stepped closer, concern creeping into my tone. "Oppa, is it safe for you to go out? What if—"

He interrupted me with a reassuring smile. "I'll handle it. I'll post a video on my Instagram, explain everything—why I disappeared for the last year and a half. It's time."

I searched his face, my worry etched plainly in my own. "Are you sure about this?"

He nodded firmly, but there was something in his eyes—something vulnerable he couldn't hide. "Yes."

A pause lingered between us, heavy with unspoken emotions. I hesitated, then asked softly, "Oppa... can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied, his voice gentle but bracing.

"Are you okay?" My question hung in the air, delicate yet piercing.

His eyes glistened, and before he could answer, they betrayed him, filling with tears. His composure cracked, and he looked away, unable to meet my gaze. I stepped closer, my arms opening to him instinctively. He collapsed into my embrace, his frame trembling as he clung to me.

"How can I be okay," he whispered, his voice breaking, "when I lost her?"

His words shattered something inside me. I tightened my hold, my hand gently patting his back as he wept silently into my shoulder, his tears soaking through my T-shirt. I didn't say a word—I couldn't. The weight of his grief pressed against me, and all I could do was be there, letting him unravel, piece by piece.

In that moment, his pain became mine, and I silently vowed to help him carry it, no matter how heavy it got.