* * *

As Jingyeom slowly explored the glasshouse, his vision suddenly became blurry.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

It wasn’t pain, nor was it dizziness—just a haziness in his vision that he thought would clear up if he stayed still.

But it only got worse, and a sharp, piercing pain shot through his brain.

Jingyeom pressed his hand to the side of his head, his face contorting in pain, his body hunched over.

The pain wasn’t fleeting. It continued relentlessly, tormenting his head.

As Jingyeom clutched his head and bent over, Jinwoo quickly rushed to support him.

Fortunately, he managed to catch him in time, preventing him from collapsing.

“Jingyeom!”

At Jinwoo’s urgent shout, Hoonil, who had been looking the other way, hurriedly assessed the situation.

Jingyeom’s sudden change—from his curious, bright-eyed demeanor just moments before—was alarming.

But even in this situation, Hoonil remained calm, helping Jingyeom sit on the floor to prevent a worse accident.

Then he quickly checked the watch on Jingyeom’s wrist and called out.

“Ms. Jeong! By the sofa, there’s a black leather bag. Please bring it here!”

Ms. Jeong, who had hesitated for a moment, snapped out of it and rushed to the intercom installed in the glasshouse.

She had been informed about Jingyeom’s condition beforehand but hadn’t expected to face such a situation right away.

Hoonil continued calling Jingyeom’s name, checking his consciousness.

“Jingyeom, can you hear me?”

“…”

There was no abnormality in his pulse, but to double-check, Hoonil manually felt for it.

While Hoonil calmly counted the beats per minute, Jinwoo, holding Jingyeom, felt his heart race in panic.

He had been reassured when they confirmed Jingyeom was well enough to leave the hospital, but now, seeing him in pain again, waves of regret hit him.

“Jingyeom, if you can hear me, give us any sign. Even just moving a finger is fine.”

“…I can hear you.”

Jingyeom, still with his eyes tightly shut, murmured softly.

As the headache subsided, his strength gave way, and he leaned fully into Jinwoo, who was holding him.

‘Ah… At this rate, I might really die.’

No matter how many times he endured this pain, it never got easier.

Still, he managed to lift the corners of his mouth slightly, wanting to reassure the two who were so worried about him.

“…I’m okay.”

But he didn’t look okay at all, making his words unconvincing.

“Okay? Your face is pale as a sheet.”

“…Hah.”

Hoonil touched various spots on Jingyeom’s neck and face, checking for a fever, and spoke in a scolding tone.

Jinwoo sighed heavily right after, the sound loud as he stood right behind him.

To reassure Jinwoo, who seemed more startled than himself, Jingyeom lightly tapped Jinwoo’s arm with his hand.

In response, Jinwoo tightened his hold on him.

“…Looks like Jinwoo should be the one getting checked, not me.”

“What?”

“Jinwoo… Your heart sounds like it’s about to explode.”

Jingyeom flashed a faint smile, hearing Jinwoo’s heart pounding as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

“Just worry about yourself. What part of your head hurt?”

“…My head.”

“How did it hurt?”

Hoonil carefully lifted Jingyeom’s chin to check his complexion again. It was still pale.

“It was sharp… like something was stabbing me.”

“And now?”

“I’m fine now. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“…If it happens again, we’re doing tests.”

If it was only a headache, it might have been a temporary issue.

After all, he had been in the car for a long time and experienced a sharp temperature change from the cold outside to the warmth of the glasshouse.

If the headache came back, though, they would need to conduct tests to find out the exact cause.

In the meantime, a bodyguard disguised as a staff member arrived with Hoonil’s bag after being called.

“Ah, thank you. You brought it quickly, but I guess we won’t be needing it now.”

“I’ll return it to its place.”

“That’s alright. I’ll hold onto it, just in case.”

Hoonil, after taking the leather bag and placing it beside him, calmly spoke to Jingyeom, who was breathing steadily.

“If you feel any pain, even a little, you have to tell me right away. The hospital is far from here.”

After confirming that the situation wasn’t too serious, Hoonil turned his gaze toward Jinwoo. Jinwoo, who had been more shocked than Jingyeom, looked even worse.

Jinwoo’s heart couldn’t handle it anymore, with Jingyeom collapsing repeatedly at monthly intervals.

He was terrified that one day, Jingyeom, who was always so sick, would leave his side.

He had been living with that constant anxiety, and witnessing Jingyeom collapse right before his eyes shredded his nerves.

Knowing Jinwoo’s anxiety, Hoonil spoke in a calm voice to reassure him.

“Let go of Jingyeom a bit. You’re going to cut off his circulation.”

“…”

“Baek Jinwoo. Jingyeom is fine.”

“…Okay.”

Jinwoo let out a deep breath and slowly relaxed his arms.

He was still uneasy, but hearing that Jingyeom was okay helped him feel a little better.

“You look more like the patient than he does.”

Hoonil stood up and, suggesting they take a rest, led the two to a shaded platform.

He laid Jingyeom down comfortably and told Jinwoo to lie down too and calm himself.

“Mrs. Jeong, I guess we’ll have to save dessert for later.”

Hoonil nodded towards the two lying down.

Mrs. Jeong, instead of bringing dessert, brought water and left the three of them to rest comfortably.

Once she headed back to the mansion, she descended to the second basement and made her way to the last room.

Unlike the other rooms, this one required a security key to open. After confirming no one had followed her, she used the key she was carrying to enter.

As soon as Mrs. Jeong entered, the three people inside stood up, greeted her, and then turned their attention to the wall filled with split monitors.

From this room, they could monitor all the CCTV cameras installed around and inside the mansion in real time.

“Make the greenhouse CCTV footage into a file and send it to the email I gave you last time.”

After checking on the progress of the task, Mrs. Jeong scanned the monitors.

Once she was told that the email had been sent, she picked up the phone inside the room and called someone.

“I sent a copy of the CCTV footage. The doctor has already reviewed it and determined it’s not an emergency.”

― Yes, I’ll confirm it.

The person who answered the call was Lee Cheongoh.

He immediately forwarded the video to Soohyuk and Wonbeom, along with a message saying everything was fine.

Ever since Jingyeom had set foot inside the mansion, his every move was being reported.

The people monitoring the greenhouse via CCTV were prepared to call in a helicopter at Mrs. Jeong’s signal the moment Jingyeom collapsed.

Fortunately, since there were no major issues, they didn’t need to call for the helicopter.

Jingyeom, lying on the platform, blinked his unfocused eyes and slowly closed them.

He replayed the memory that had surfaced in his mind during the brief moment when he had that headache earlier.

‘…It wasn’t a dream back then, but a returning memory.’

Two dreams he had while in the hospital.

At the time, he had thought they were just dreams.

But after what happened earlier, it became clear that these were memories, not dreams.

The first one was at the hospital.

The second one was in the garden. And now, the third started inside a house.

---

Toys were scattered across the living room floor, and a slightly larger hand than before was moving a fancy-looking toy car back and forth.

When the child looked up, Jingyeom could briefly see his surroundings.

The walls were covered with an unsettling number of framed pictures.

Even at a glance, there were more photos of children than adults.

There was also a picture of a dog he had seen before.

Because the child turned his head too quickly, Jingyeom couldn’t get a good look at the faces in the frames.

The largest frame, though, seemed to be a family photo.

The child stood up and quickly ran off somewhere.

Soon, the front door opened, and three people walked in.

An older man, an adult woman, and a child.

Unlike last time, their faces were clear now.

And, as expected, they were strangers to Jingyeom.

The child ran joyfully to another child visitor of a similar age and hugged them tightly.

The adult woman gently touched the child’s face, smiling warmly.

There was still no sound, but Jingyeom could read one word from the woman’s lips.

‘…Jingyeom?’

She definitely said Jingyeom.

But because they had the same name, he still wasn’t sure if this was Baek Jingyeom’s memory or his own.

The child eagerly pulled the visiting child outside, and they began playing energetically.

Jingyeom tried his best to read their lips and guess the conversation, but because they kept running around, he couldn’t make out anything more.

It was frustrating.

How much time passed?

The scene started shaking as the child’s steps grew wobbly.

Then, the view tilted sideways.

From the sight of the green grass right in front of his eyes, Jingyeom realized the child had collapsed.

‘…Collapsed?’

The last thing Jingyeom saw before the darkness closed in was people running towards the fallen child.

---

The momentary dizziness and staggering earlier had brought back another piece of memory.

‘Does collapsing mean the body was weak? If so, then… is this Baek Jingyeom’s memory, not mine?’

But there were still several things that didn’t add up.

‘I feel like if I see a childhood photo of Jinwoo, I’ll know for sure…’

For a brief moment, Jingyeom wondered if the child he had just seen might have been Jinwoo.

But no matter how much he thought about it, the child looked far too different from the Jinwoo he knew today.

It would help to check a photo, but Jinwoo had said he lost all his albums during the move, so there was nothing left.

‘I’ve never heard Jinwoo mention a grandfather either.’

While Jinwoo hadn’t told him everything, he had shared that his family consisted only of his parents.

And based on what Jingyeom knew from the original story, Jinwoo had no relatives.

‘Baek Jingyeom collapsed for the first time when he was young, didn’t he?’

Jingyeom grew increasingly frustrated, unable to determine whether these were his memories or Baek Jingyeom’s.

‘Ah…! Whose memories are these? At least let me hear some sound!’

As Jingyeom stomped his feet in irritation, Jinwoo, who had been lying next to him, suddenly shot up.

Worried that Jingyeom might be in pain again, Jinwoo had reacted immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“…Ah, it’s just… I’m itchy.”

Jingyeom, unable to admit he was frustrated, mumbled an excuse instead.

* * *