Hana sat at the edge of her bathtub. The water had gone cold long ago, but she hadn't noticed.
Not until she felt the chill in her bones.
She'd been staring at her reflection in the mirror—her real reflection.Not the one she wore around Mi-Ho.Not the one Léon kissed.
The one that looked back at her now had tired eyes and trembling lips.
She whispered into the silence, "Who am I even fighting for?"
The answer wasn't Mi-Ho.It wasn't Léon.It wasn't her mother.Not even her dreams.
It was herself.
The girl who had once believed she could be more.Before she was sold.Before the lies.Before the coma.
That girl… had forgotten how to breathe.
The next morning, she called Mrs. Kim.
"I want to see the will," Hana said. "My father's."
There was a pause. Then a quiet, "Come."
Hana arrived at the estate later that day, dressed simply. No makeup. Just truth in her eyes.
Mrs. Kim was already waiting in the study with a thick file.
"This is everything," she said, sliding it across the desk. "And a letter. From your father."
Hana's hands trembled as she opened it.
"My dearest Hana,If you're reading this, I've already lost the fight. But I hope I've won you time.Don't let them take who you are. Even if they steal everything else—fight for your name.That's the real inheritance."
Tears slipped down her face.
Not because she was sad.But because she'd finally remembered the girl she used to be—and realized she'd been there all along.