Mi-Ho stood in his father's office, dressed in a sharp suit that somehow still felt like a costume.
"I want a seat at the table," he said.
His father raised a brow. "You've been avoiding the company for years. Why now?"
Mi-Ho's jaw clenched. "Because I've been running—from responsibility, from feelings, from her. I'm done running."
It wasn't just about Hana anymore. It was about him finally becoming the man he should've been.
His sister, Mi-Young, peeked in with a smirk. "Took you long enough. Maybe now Dad will stop threatening to adopt me as the heir."
He rolled his eyes, but smiled. For once, it felt good—earned.
As he exited the room, his phone buzzed.
[Hana: First design draft approved. I'm not crying, you are.]
He smiled softly.
She was flying… and so was he.