* * *

The hospital room buzzed with the hurried footsteps of the medical staff.

Four men stood around, watching a small figure shiver uncontrollably, their faces gradually etched with deepening cracks of tension.

Jungseo was the first to speak, glaring at Jungjin.

“Why did you have to bring that up?”

“…Jungin needed to know.”

“Seriously? You could’ve told him slowly! Did you have to drop that bombshell when he doesn’t even have his memories back yet?”

Jungseo’s anger was palpable, almost as if he might grab Jungjin by the collar any moment.

Before things escalated, Jungwoo stepped in, trying to mediate.

“What’s the point of fighting each other? Both of you, calm down.”

He let out a long sigh, looking over at Jungin, who had finally drifted off to sleep after a sedative.

It was heartbreaking.

No one could have predicted that when Jungin had gone to the bathroom, he would end up searching for the boy named Choi Jungin instead.

Jungjin rubbed his throbbing head and turned toward Beomhyeon, who was standing by Jungin’s bedside.

“So, you knew about it already, huh?”

Beomhyeon nodded once, and Jungjin scowled, clearly displeased.

He didn’t know how Beomhyeon had found out about a matter that was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.

Clicking his tongue, Jungjin shot him a warning look.

“Don’t tell Jungin the truth.”

“I understand.”

Beomhyeon had no intention of revealing the truth to Jungin.

Frankly, the boy named Choi Jungin had always rubbed him the wrong way.

He didn’t want anyone but himself near Jungin.

“Right. Choi Jungin is definitely dead. It will be hard for Jungin to accept, but as time passes, he’ll come to terms with it. Everyone, be careful about this.”

They all nodded solemnly at Jungjin’s words.

The doctor, who had been checking Jungin’s condition, straightened up and spoke.

“Vice President, there are no major issues with the young master’s body. His already frail condition, combined with the emotional shock, was too much for him. We’ve given him a sedative and some vitamins to help him regain his strength, so we’ll just have to monitor him for now.”

“Understood. Thank you for your work.”

Jungjin approached Jungin, gently brushing his hand across the boy’s delicate cheek and closing his eyes quietly.

Choi Jungin had demanded a settlement the moment he regained consciousness.

Somehow, he knew the traffic accident had been deliberate and that the perpetrator had been his own mother.

[Do you think Jungin can handle the truth? If he learns that his mother, his own birth mother, tried to kill not just herself but also him, he won’t survive it.]

It was true.

Having spent his life enduring parental abuse and neglect from his siblings, if Jungin found out even this, he would shatter.

[Five billion won as settlement, and a house in the area I want. In exchange, I promise never to appear before Jungin again.]

Jungjin didn’t hesitate long. Jungin’s condition was stabilizing, and to protect his precious brother, he was willing to give up that much money.

The next day, he met the boy, who was covered in bandages, and handed over the documents for five billion won in cash and a villa in America transferred under his name.

The boy had carefully examined the paperwork before suddenly asking,*
“By the way… Do you really love Lee Jungin?”

What had he answered to that?

Maybe… that he did.

“When are you leaving?”

“Who knows? Once I’m ready, but I don’t plan to tell you. I’ve committed a bit of a sin, after all.”

Jungin had given a small, bitter laugh and sipped his citron tea.

Despite the cold weather, he was only wearing a thin T-shirt, and Jungjin found himself worrying.

Maybe it was because he was a friend of his brother, or maybe Jungin’s mannerisms reminded him of his brother.

“Take it.”

Jungjin pulled out some cash from his wallet and handed it to him.

“Get yourself a coat or something. It’s getting cold.”

“…That would’ve been nice.”

“What did you just say?”

Jungjin frowned, unable to catch the boy’s quiet words.

Jungin simply gave him a bright smile and replied,

“Nothing. Thanks for the money, Jungjin hyung. I’ll use it well.”

Jungjin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but when his phone buzzed with a message from his secretary, he had to leave the café.

That had already been weeks ago.

By now, Choi Jungin was probably in America.

Since he promised never to return, it was better for Jungin to believe he was dead.

Jungjin reached out, wiping the tear stains from Jungin’s face, and exhaled deeply.

It had been three days since he learned of the boy’s supposed death.

During that time, he couldn’t fully process it, refusing to accept that the real Lee Jungin had died.

“Please.”

The voice that reached his ears in a half-dream was his oldest brother’s.

Since that day, Jungin had stopped speaking to anyone, choosing to shut them out.

Everyone who had deceived him felt like a betrayer.

His brothers kept calling out to him, but Jungin would only turn away and close his eyes, shutting them out.

Did they enjoy watching him cluelessly laugh and smile, unaware of the truth?

Did they find it amusing?

If he had at least witnessed Jungin’s last moments, he wouldn’t have felt so bitter.

Hearing the door open and the footsteps leaving, Jungin opened his eyes.

“Lee Jungin.”

It seemed his brothers had left him in Beomhyeon’s care.

Seeing Beomhyeon, Jungin broke his three-day silence, whispering hoarsely,
“…Did you have fun?”

His voice sounded alien to even himself, raw and raspy, nothing like the usual Lee Jungin.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

It wasn’t entirely Beomhyeon’s fault, but Jungin felt a pang of betrayal.
He had really thought of Beomhyeon as a friend. How could he have joined his brothers in deceiving him?

The feeling of betrayal twisted inside him, an overwhelming sadness eating him from within.

Curling up, Jungin closed his eyes, and Beomhyeon approached, speaking softly.

“I didn’t want to cause more trauma while your memories were still fragile. I never meant to deceive you. I’m sorry.”

“…Beomhyeon.”

“Yes.”

Jungin looked at him, waiting for his response, and said,

“I feel suffocated. I want to leave.”

Even if he resented Beomhyeon like his brothers, he had no one else to rely on.

Biting his chapped lips in an attempt to use him, Jungin pleaded,

“It hurts… my chest feels so tight.”

“…”

“My legs aren’t even injured… Please… I feel like I’ll really die like this.”

His legs were sore, but he didn’t need to stay confined in the hospital any longer.

The cast had come off, and he desperately wanted to be free.

Staring at Beomhyeon with earnest eyes, Jungin watched a flicker of hesitation cross his face.

Finally, Beomhyeon sighed deeply.

“Alright. Let’s get out of here.”

Bending down, Beomhyeon gently lifted Jungin, covering him with his jacket over the hospital gown, and carried him out.

Jungin hadn’t realized Beomhyeon could drive.

Perhaps his birthday came early, allowing him to get his license quickly.

Or maybe he had obtained it while in America.

* * *