when the phone rings novel

As time went on, Hee-joo became increasingly isolated. She stopped answering calls from her sister and Director Han Jun, who were both worried about her mental state. Once again, Hee-joo shut herself inside her home.

However, as soon as the phone rang, she quickly answered, like a squirrel darting to retrieve a nut.

"Hello?"

—...

The breathing on the other end was different from usual, as if it was interrupted midway.

"Why do you only call once a day?"

—...

"Can't it be more frequent?"

—...

Even if people thought she was crazy, it didn't matter. Even if they labeled her as mentally ill, she didn't care.

Closing her eyes tightly, Hee-joo said, "I will find you."

—...

"So, please wait for me."

—...

"Wherever you are, I will find you."

Even if you're a ghost, I will find you.

Hee-joo gripped the phone with all her strength.

It was her first time visiting a prison. The place felt desolate and cold. Sitting in the visitation room, Hee-joo anxiously adjusted her carefully chosen outfit, waiting for someone to arrive.

Soon, a man appeared, escorted by a prison guard—it was Baek Sa-eon's personal assistant, Park Do-jae.

Hee-joo was well aware of how close Park Do-jae and Baek Sa-eon were.

"Hello," she greeted.

Park Do-jae avoided her gaze.

It was clear that prison life hadn't been kind to him. One of his eyes was swollen badly, his lips were cracked, and he walked with a limp. His limbs bore obvious signs of injury.

"I came to see you, Assistant Park, because..."

Hee-joo swallowed hard and asked, "Where is he?"

"...!"

Park Do-jae froze, meeting her gaze.

"I know this sounds crazy, but it's just my intuition. My gut tells me that he's still alive."

"..."

"Sometimes in life, there are absurd things we must confront, and for me, that time is now. Where is he?"

"I don't know," he replied, his face expressionless.

It was evident Park Do-jae wasn't going to divulge anything. He abruptly turned his head, signaled to the guard, and stood to leave.

At that moment, Hee-joo grabbed his wrist.

"You pushed me."

"...!"

Park Do-jae's face turned pale as he stared at her.

"At the workshop, it was you who pushed me, Park Do-jae."

"...!"

"Shall we talk about that first?"

His gaze faltered, a slight tremor in his eyes.

Under Hee-joo's half-threatening tone, he sat back down.

Though she wasn't naturally intimidating, this past month had honed her ability to use whatever tactics she had.

"It looks like you're having a hard time in here."

"...!"

"Answer my question."

Hee-joo stared him down.

"Although my family has fallen from grace, I'm still the second daughter of the president of The SanKyung Daily. Compared to you, a mere assistant in prison, my influence is far greater, isn't it?"

"..."

Their gazes clashed in midair. Hee-joo finally relaxed her shoulders, letting them slump helplessly.

"I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I just need to know about Baek Sa-eon..."

"My younger sister went missing when she was a child," Park Do-jae interrupted her.

His words left Hee-joo speechless.

"That incident plunged my family into ruin. It was in the late '90s, during a period when cases of missing children were rampant. My father quit his job and traveled the country searching for her."

"..."

"A 30-square-meter apartment shrank to 20-square-meter. Then, it was a rented villa. After that, a semi-basement studio. In less than three years."

His voice was low and dark.

"My mother, overwhelmed with depression and neurosis, was bedridden for years before passing away."

"..."

"That's when I met Professor Shim."

"...!"

"The reason I stayed by the spokesperson's side all this time was..." His gaze dimmed.

"Professor Shim told me that Baek Sa-eon was the one who harmed my sister."

"...!"

"I always thought that was referring to the man I served as my superior." He rubbed his face with his cuffed hands, a tormented expression etched into his features.

"But it turns out that man wasn't Baek Sa-eon."

His distorted face betrayed deep anguish.

"I was unknowingly helping the man responsible for my sister's suffering."

His cracked lips curved into a bitter smile.

Pushing Hee-joo on the hiking trip. Taking the negotiation phone from her climbing pack to keep it undiscovered. Deliberately sabotaging location tracking or erasing threatening voice files to cover up the mastermind behind the calls—it had all been his doing.

Manipulated completely by Shim Kyu-jin and her son, he hadn't realized he was becoming just like them.

Eventually, Park Do-jae straightened his once-slumped shoulders and said resolutely:

"...He's still alive."

Hee-joo's eyes widened in disbelief.

"He's alive. —If he's the man I know."

"This must have been orchestrated by the Blue House's planning team. Professor Shim and her biological son had planned from the beginning to destroy Baek Jang-ho's memorial hall."

"If your predecessor knew of this plan, then the more relevant question is, which Baek Sa-eon actually died?"

Amid the chaos of hurriedly packing her suitcase, the front door suddenly flew open.

A storm of angry footsteps followed as someone charged into the room.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Hong In A yelled, her voice sharp.

"I thought I misheard you!"

"..."

"What? You're going to the Argan Republic?"

Hong In A stood with her hands on her hips, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs called, saying there's an exceptional passport application. The name they mentioned was Hong Hee-joo. They asked if it was part of The SanKyung Daily's itinerary."

Hee-joo only shrugged, her focus still on her clothes.

"Now you're abusing chaebol privileges for this?"

"Are you crazy? Why would you go there? How can you even think of going to that place?"

"..."

Silently, Hee-joo continued folding her clothes.

If Baek Sa-eon was truly in hiding, then he must be in the Argan Republic. It was where he'd completed his military service and the starting point of his years traversing conflict zones.

Park Do-jae's conviction in his gaze had left no doubt in her mind.

Desperate, In A grabbed Hee-joo's arm.

"Get a grip...!"

"..."

"You're not doing this because of Baek Sa-eon, are you?"

Hee-joo met her gaze, calm and resolute.

The silence between them spoke volumes, revealing an unshakable determination.

Hong In A's face crumpled, and she ran a hand through her hair, exasperated.

"I asked you to wait a little longer. I'm investigating it now, and there are definitely suspicious elements. Just give me some more time—"

"Unnie."

Hee-joo took her frantic sister's hand in hers.

"Thank you for helping me escape back then."

"...!"

"Thank you for giving me the chance to stay by his side."

The whispered words caused In A's expression to falter.

"But if you've been looking after me out of guilt—"

Hee-joo gripped her hand tightly.

"You can stop now."

"...!"

"I haven't lost anything."

Hee-joo smiled as she said those words.

"Please. If what you feel for me isn't just guilt, then let me go."

"...You're walking into death."

"No, I'm going to talk to him."

Hong In A turned away to hide her glistening eyes.

Argan was a dangerous country. Yet, there was no stopping Hee-joo. In-a couldn't help but reflect on her own past, when she had risked everything to escape an arranged marriage, enduring illegal clinical procedures to seize her freedom. How was she any different from Hee-joo now?

An indifferent father, a calculating stepmother, and her selfish self—Hong In-a often thought of them as a perfectly dysfunctional trio. Except for the girl wedged between them like a coral reef, her stepsister Hee-joo—transparent as water, her emotions always visible.

That little hand, the one that pulled her out of the silent void she'd once been trapped in, was now the same hand she felt powerless to protect.

"I guess... I was too late after all," In-a murmured, hugging Hee-joo tightly.

She felt as if she had completely lost Hee-joo to Baek Sa-eon.

"I should have gotten married back then."

"Now, it's impossible," Hee-joo said firmly.

Her determination made In-a sniffle despite herself.

The sun blazed fiercely. Beyond the half-destroyed buildings, the turquoise sea shimmered brightly.

She pulled the old scarf over her nose and mouth. The sea breeze carried sand that found its way into her mouth, intensifying her thirst. Hee-joo licked her dry lips and quickened her pace.

This foreign land, with its vast grasslands and deserts, had been mired in chaos for over two decades. Torn flags lay scattered on the ground, and the temporary tents set up everywhere were now in tatters.

She walked past the ruins and climbed a shrub-covered hill. This was Biben Special Education Facility.

When Hee-joo pulled down the scarf covering her face, a child waved enthusiastically and called out, "Teacher!"

It was a child who used sign language.

"Keep your head down, stay quiet..."

She quickly approached a group of about ten children.

For the past two months, she had been in the Argan Republic as an international sign language interpreter, teaching at this facility for hearing-impaired children.

"Hee-joo, hurry!"

The director called out in broken English, urging her to move faster.

According to the director's intel, a street battle was expected to break out tonight. They were now trying to escort the children to a UN tent for safety.

Suddenly, the rumble of engines roared in the distance.

As time went on, Hee-joo became increasingly isolated. She stopped answering calls from her sister and Director Han Jun, who were both worried about her mental state. Once again, Hee-joo shut herself inside her home.

However, as soon as the phone rang, she quickly answered, like a squirrel darting to retrieve a nut.

"Hello?"

—...

The breathing on the other end was different from usual, as if it was interrupted midway.

"Why do you only call once a day?"

—...

"Can't it be more frequent?"

—...

Even if people thought she was crazy, it didn't matter. Even if they labeled her as mentally ill, she didn't care.

Closing her eyes tightly, Hee-joo said, "I will find you."

—...

"So, please wait for me."

—...

"Wherever you are, I will find you."

Even if you're a ghost, I will find you.

Hee-joo gripped the phone with all her strength.

It was her first time visiting a prison. The place felt desolate and cold. Sitting in the visitation room, Hee-joo anxiously adjusted her carefully chosen outfit, waiting for someone to arrive.

Soon, a man appeared, escorted by a prison guard—it was Baek Sa-eon's personal assistant, Park Do-jae.

Hee-joo was well aware of how close Park Do-jae and Baek Sa-eon were.

"Hello," she greeted.

Park Do-jae avoided her gaze.

It was clear that prison life hadn't been kind to him. One of his eyes was swollen badly, his lips were cracked, and he walked with a limp. His limbs bore obvious signs of injury.

"I came to see you, Assistant Park, because..."

Hee-joo swallowed hard and asked, "Where is he?"

"...!"

Park Do-jae froze, meeting her gaze.

"I know this sounds crazy, but it's just my intuition. My gut tells me that he's still alive."

"..."

"Sometimes in life, there are absurd things we must confront, and for me, that time is now. Where is he?"

"I don't know," he replied, his face expressionless.

It was evident Park Do-jae wasn't going to divulge anything. He abruptly turned his head, signaled to the guard, and stood to leave.

At that moment, Hee-joo grabbed his wrist.

"You pushed me."

"...!"

Park Do-jae's face turned pale as he stared at her.

"At the workshop, it was you who pushed me, Park Do-jae."

"...!"

"Shall we talk about that first?"

His gaze faltered, a slight tremor in his eyes.

Under Hee-joo's half-threatening tone, he sat back down.

Though she wasn't naturally intimidating, this past month had honed her ability to use whatever tactics she had.

"It looks like you're having a hard time in here."

"...!"

"Answer my question."

Hee-joo stared him down.

"Although my family has fallen from grace, I'm still the second daughter of the president of The SanKyung Daily. Compared to you, a mere assistant in prison, my influence is far greater, isn't it?"

"..."

Their gazes clashed in midair. Hee-joo finally relaxed her shoulders, letting them slump helplessly.

"I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I just need to know about Baek Sa-eon..."

"My younger sister went missing when she was a child," Park Do-jae interrupted her.

His words left Hee-joo speechless.

"That incident plunged my family into ruin. It was in the late '90s, during a period when cases of missing children were rampant. My father quit his job and traveled the country searching for her."

"..."

"A 30-square-meter apartment shrank to 20-square-meter. Then, it was a rented villa. After that, a semi-basement studio. In less than three years."

His voice was low and dark.

"My mother, overwhelmed with depression and neurosis, was bedridden for years before passing away."

"..."

"That's when I met Professor Shim."

"...!"

"The reason I stayed by the spokesperson's side all this time was..." His gaze dimmed.

"Professor Shim told me that Baek Sa-eon was the one who harmed my sister."

"...!"

"I always thought that was referring to the man I served as my superior." He rubbed his face with his cuffed hands, a tormented expression etched into his features.

"But it turns out that man wasn't Baek Sa-eon."

His distorted face betrayed deep anguish.

"I was unknowingly helping the man responsible for my sister's suffering."

His cracked lips curved into a bitter smile.

Pushing Hee-joo on the hiking trip. Taking the negotiation phone from her climbing pack to keep it undiscovered. Deliberately sabotaging location tracking or erasing threatening voice files to cover up the mastermind behind the calls—it had all been his doing.

Manipulated completely by Shim Kyu-jin and her son, he hadn't realized he was becoming just like them.

Eventually, Park Do-jae straightened his once-slumped shoulders and said resolutely:

"...He's still alive."

Hee-joo's eyes widened in disbelief.

"He's alive. —If he's the man I know."

"This must have been orchestrated by the Blue House's planning team. Professor Shim and her biological son had planned from the beginning to destroy Baek Jang-ho's memorial hall."

"If your predecessor knew of this plan, then the more relevant question is, which Baek Sa-eon actually died?"

Amid the chaos of hurriedly packing her suitcase, the front door suddenly flew open.

A storm of angry footsteps followed as someone charged into the room.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Hong In A yelled, her voice sharp.

"I thought I misheard you!"

"..."

"What? You're going to the Argan Republic?"

Hong In A stood with her hands on her hips, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs called, saying there's an exceptional passport application. The name they mentioned was Hong Hee-joo. They asked if it was part of The SanKyung Daily's itinerary."

Hee-joo only shrugged, her focus still on her clothes.

"Now you're abusing chaebol privileges for this?"

"Are you crazy? Why would you go there? How can you even think of going to that place?"

"..."

Silently, Hee-joo continued folding her clothes.

If Baek Sa-eon was truly in hiding, then he must be in the Argan Republic. It was where he'd completed his military service and the starting point of his years traversing conflict zones.

Park Do-jae's conviction in his gaze had left no doubt in her mind.

Desperate, In A grabbed Hee-joo's arm.

"Get a grip...!"

"..."

"You're not doing this because of Baek Sa-eon, are you?"

Hee-joo met her gaze, calm and resolute.

The silence between them spoke volumes, revealing an unshakable determination.

Hong In A's face crumpled, and she ran a hand through her hair, exasperated.

"I asked you to wait a little longer. I'm investigating it now, and there are definitely suspicious elements. Just give me some more time—"

"Unnie."

Hee-joo took her frantic sister's hand in hers.

"Thank you for helping me escape back then."

"...!"

"Thank you for giving me the chance to stay by his side."

The whispered words caused In A's expression to falter.

"But if you've been looking after me out of guilt—"

Hee-joo gripped her hand tightly.

"You can stop now."

"...!"

"I haven't lost anything."

Hee-joo smiled as she said those words.

"Please. If what you feel for me isn't just guilt, then let me go."

"...You're walking into death."

"No, I'm going to talk to him."

Hong In A turned away to hide her glistening eyes.

Argan was a dangerous country. Yet, there was no stopping Hee-joo. In-a couldn't help but reflect on her own past, when she had risked everything to escape an arranged marriage, enduring illegal clinical procedures to seize her freedom. How was she any different from Hee-joo now?

An indifferent father, a calculating stepmother, and her selfish self—Hong In-a often thought of them as a perfectly dysfunctional trio. Except for the girl wedged between them like a coral reef, her stepsister Hee-joo—transparent as water, her emotions always visible.

That little hand, the one that pulled her out of the silent void she'd once been trapped in, was now the same hand she felt powerless to protect.

"I guess... I was too late after all," In-a murmured, hugging Hee-joo tightly.

She felt as if she had completely lost Hee-joo to Baek Sa-eon.

"I should have gotten married back then."

"Now, it's impossible," Hee-joo said firmly.

Her determination made In-a sniffle despite herself.

The sun blazed fiercely. Beyond the half-destroyed buildings, the turquoise sea shimmered brightly.

She pulled the old scarf over her nose and mouth. The sea breeze carried sand that found its way into her mouth, intensifying her thirst. Hee-joo licked her dry lips and quickened her pace.

This foreign land, with its vast grasslands and deserts, had been mired in chaos for over two decades. Torn flags lay scattered on the ground, and the temporary tents set up everywhere were now in tatters.

She walked past the ruins and climbed a shrub-covered hill. This was Biben Special Education Facility.

When Hee-joo pulled down the scarf covering her face, a child waved enthusiastically and called out, "Teacher!"

It was a child who used sign language.

"Keep your head down, stay quiet..."

She quickly approached a group of about ten children.

For the past two months, she had been in the Argan Republic as an international sign language interpreter, teaching at this facility for hearing-impaired children.

"Hee-joo, hurry!"

The director called out in broken English, urging her to move faster.

According to the director's intel, a street battle was expected to break out tonight. They were now trying to escort the children to a UN tent for safety.

Suddenly, the rumble of engines roared in the distance.