Woken up at early six a.m., I decided to go on a morning run, partly to clear my head and partly because something in me kept pulling me toward the burnt house. Maybe if I walked around it… something would come up. Anything. Even the smallest clue.
I quietly sneaked out, careful not to wake my mom. She had barely slept last night after crying in my arms. I didn't want her worrying again, especially when I was the reason tears fell from her eyes in the first place.
The old house wasn't far. The morning was quiet…
When I got close, I stopped instantly.
The house… or what used to be my house… was now an open construction site. The old burnt remnants were gone. New blocks were already arranged. Workers were moving around with strange urgency. Everything was happening too fast.
It didn't feel normal.
Nobody told us the site had been sold. Nobody told us reconstruction had already begun. Mom never said anything. Did she even know?
I walked slowly to the half-built entrance and felt my chest tighten. I didn't want to imagine what happened here. I didn't even want to think that my father's death might actually be connected to what happened in this house. But deep inside, something whispered that I shouldn't ignore it.
Just as I turned to leave, a voice echoed behind me.
"Hi, girl. Can I help you?"
I quickly turned. A man — one of the older construction workers — walked toward me, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"No," I said quickly. "I just came to see my old site."
He studied my face for a moment, and then his eyes widened a little.
"Hold on… are you Lee's daughter?"
I froze on the spot.
The way he said it… slowly… like he was confirming something he already knew.
"Yes," I replied. "I am his daughter."
He sighed and shook his head sadly.
"Ah. Such a good man. A very good man that just passed like that. How is your mother holding up?"
I forced a weak smile. "She's fine."
I turned to leave, but something inside me yelled: Ask him. Ask for anything. Anything at all.
So I stopped.
"Sorry sir," I said, turning back. "Do you know who took over this place? I mean… who owns this building now?"
"Oh…" he scratched his head. "I don't know his name. The owner comes every weekend. Either today or tomorrow.
"Is there any reason why you're asking?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No, nothing. I don't even know why I asked."
I forced a smile. "Thanks, sir."
He studied me longer than necessary. I could feel his stare burning on my back. As if he knew more than he was willing to say. As if he was waiting for me to ask the right question.
But I didn't.
Not yet.
I started walking home. The moment I turned the corner, I felt it—
I walked faster, pretending not to notice.
By the time I reached home, my mom was already awake. She looked relieved when she saw me, but also worried.
"Jina, where did you go so early?" she asked, walking closer.
I wanted to ask her for something. Something that kept pulling inside me since yesterday.
"Mom… do you have anything of Dad's left? Anything at all?"
My mom lowered her eyes.
Her face hardened.
Then softened.
Pain passed through her expression.
"Nothing, my daughter…" she said slowly. "The house burned completely. But… the only thing I saved… the only thing left… is his camera. Though it's broken."
My heart jumped.
Dad's camera.
"Mom… you mean the camera is here?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "I kept it. But it hasn't worked since that day. I didn't want to throw it away."
"Mom, please… can I have it?"
I stepped closer. "I can fix it. Just let me see it."
She looked at me, torn between fear and hesitation, then finally nodded.
"Follow me."
I walked behind her to her room. She bent down to the drawer, opened it slowly, and brought out a wrapped object.
Old. Dusty. Heavy.
She unwrapped it.
My breath caught in my throat.
The camera was cracked, lens shattered on one side, and the screen destroyed.
She placed it carefully in my hands.
I swallowed hard.
"Mom… do you know who Eunwoo is?"
The moment the name left my lips, my mom's body stiffened.
Her head jerked up.
Her mouth fell open.
Like I'd just said the name of a ghost