Masquerader Chapter 16

Even though she insisted she was fine, Chi-wook called a doctor to the officetel.  

 

“How have you been eating?”  

 

“Just… moderately.”  

 

“I won’t ask for three full meals a day, but at the very least, you should have two, or at least one proper meal.”  

 

“I do eat that much.”  

 

“Don’t lie to a doctor. A blood test will show everything.”  

 

“…”  

 

After examining Seol-ah, the doctor diagnosed her with malnutrition and administered an IV drip.  

 

“When you last came in, I prescribed you two weeks’ worth of medication, and you’re almost out? You do know that exceeding the prescribed dosage could be seriously dangerous, right?”  

 

“I haven’t done that.”  

 

“That’s odd. Why is there so little left?”  

 

“…”  

 

“Don’t abuse your medication. Ignoring a doctor’s warning isn’t a joke.”  

 

Listening to the doctor’s nagging, she dozed off. Even at times like this, sleep never came without dragging that wretched dream along.  

 

Gasp.  

 

She woke up with a sharp intake of breath. The doctor and Chief Secretary had left, and as always, the officetel was silent.  

 

On the back of her hand, where the IV had been, a small round bandage was stuck. Seol-ah peeled it off. A bluish bruise had already formed around the needle mark.  

 

The discoloration, like a drop of paint spreading, made the bones of her hand protrude visibly. Looking at it now, she did seem a bit thinner than before.  

 

– “Your wrist is nothing but skin and bones! It looks like it’ll snap if I’m not careful. I need to take you home and feed you properly. That’s why I came today—to take you home.” 

 

She didn’t believe that everything her mother said was just pretense or lies.  

 

Even when her mother claimed it was a choice made for her sake, it was likely closer to self-deception. But still, it was sincere in its own way.  

 

Of course, it wasn’t a choice made solely with Yoon Seol-ah in mind—it was a decision that took into account herself and the entire family.  

 

Her mother’s greatest concern had always been her older brother, three years her senior. Trapped in the male-preference culture that had dominated their household while she was growing up, her mother had never quite managed to break free from it.  

 

There had always been small differences in how they were treated.  

 

Seol-ah had half-accepted it over the years, but this was the first time her mother’s true intentions made her feel so physically sick.  

 

– “Seo Gyo-jin seems to be trying to win over my family.”  

 

– “I expected that. The court initially recommends settlement between the victim and the perpetrator, and the outcome of the settlement influences the severity of the sentence. So we can’t exactly blame them for approaching your family. Especially if they claim they want to ask for forgiveness.”  

 

– “Can my family settle without my consent?”  

 

– “It wouldn’t hold much legal weight, but we can’t be sure what tricks they might try. I’ll look into it separately, so you don’t have to worry too much about it, Miss Yoon Seol-ah.”  

 

After sending her mother away, Seol-ah recalled her conversation with Chi-wook as she pushed off the blanket.  

 

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly sat up.  

 

Maybe because of the IV, she felt noticeably more energetic than usual.  

 

Lately, she had been getting dizzy every time she stood up, but now, she wasn’t lightheaded, and her feet didn’t drag when she walked.  

 

Wouldn’t it be easier to just get IV drips every day instead of eating?  

 

Eating was such a hassle…  

 

With that meaningless thought, Seol-ah walked into the living room.  

 

The table was full of food that Chi-wook had bought, but she ignored it and plopped down onto the sofa.  

 

Resting her chin on the armrest of the sofa, she leaned back at an angle. Because Chi-wook had turned on the dining table light before leaving, Seol-ah’s shadow, cast by the faint orange glow, was smeared hazily across the living room wall.  

 

As she sat idly, killing time, Seol-ah suddenly reached for the side table. There lay the cigarette she had ‘borrowed’ from Seo Tae-shin. She tapped the cigarette pack, adorned with a camel illustration, and pulled out a stick.  

 

Click.  

 

Unfamiliar hands struggled repeatedly to turn the flint wheel of the Zippo lighter. After several attempts, a flame finally flickered to life.  

 

But now, lighting the cigarette was the problem. Without any technique, she brought the fire to the tip of the cigarette, but the paper filter only charred black, showing no sign of catching fire.  

 

Seol-ah watched one cigarette burn away in vain, then straightened her upper body and leaned against the sofa’s backrest. She pictured Seo Tae-shin lighting his cigarette in her mind.  

 

The image of him placing the cigarette between his lips, his long fingers transferring it effortlessly, then drawing in so deeply that his cheeks hollowed as the flame ignited at the tip—she visualized it carefully. Taking a breath as she recalled that scene, the ember finally took hold.  

 

Just what does this taste like that makes it seem so appealing when he smokes it?  

 

As if trying to resolve that long-held question, Seol-ah took a deep inhale. The smoke, which felt like nothing at first as it lingered in her mouth, suddenly surged down her throat, making her cough out a short, sharp hack.  

 

The acrid, biting smoke scraped against the inner walls of her airway, a sensation she found difficult to endure. She kept coughing, her breath catching as she wheezed. This was something people willingly endured just to smoke?  

 

Giving up on the foolish attempt, Seol-ah set the half-smoked cigarette down at an angle on the ashtray. A thin wisp of smoke curled from the tip. Though she had no taste for inhaling it directly, sinking into its familiar scent didn’t seem so bad.  

 

Her eyelids fluttered amidst the faint, spicy haze of smoke. Despite smoking such strong cigarettes, why was it that Seo Tae-shin’s scent always carried that distinctive, subtly sweet fragrance rather than the smell of tobacco? She was curious.  

 

She regretted not burying her nose in the nape of his neck when that pleasant scent had been wafting from him. Thinking that, she slowly closed her eyes.  

 

And then, when the lone burning cigarette turned to ash and extinguished itself, she would pull out another and light it again.  

 

How many times did she repeat this?  

 

Even those brief touches of nicotine left her head feeling hazy. Her eyes stung as if she had done something recklessly indulgent. Of all the cigarette brands out there, she had chosen one of the strongest—just like the man himself.  

 

Her head tilted to the side. Despite having already slept, drowsiness crept back in.  

 

Ah… I can’t have any dreams. I don’t want to…  

 

And with that, her consciousness faded into darkness.  

 

***  

 

When she opened her eyes again, the scene in her hazy memory before she drifted off was now tilted ninety degrees to the side. How long had she been asleep? Seol-ah sat there blankly, pondering.  

 

She had rarely fallen into such a deep sleep. It had been a long time since she last experienced a restful slumber, free from the dreams that usually tormented her. As her entire body slowly woke alongside her consciousness, a pleasant, unfamiliar sense of refreshment spread through her.  

 

She closed her eyes again, shifting her body slightly, savoring the fleeting moment. But then, suddenly, her eyes snapped open.  

 

The surface her ear was resting against was not the sofa’s armrest. It was far too firm. And for a brief moment, she could have sworn it moved.  

 

Rolling her eyes downward, she realized—she had been resting her head on someone’s thigh.  

 

And the owner of that thigh was…