Seoryeong constantly swallowed her anxiety and put on a sweet, docile face. She wanted a normal life—so she had to be a normal woman.

“What time are you coming home today? There’s no company dinner, right?”

He’d brought over a light blanket and, without a word, wrapped it carefully around her body. He leaned in like he might kiss her but then quietly pulled away.

“You’ll catch a cold. And don’t open the door even if a delivery driver comes.”

“You say that every time. Oh, right. I think someone’s moving out.”

“Why?”

“It’s kind of noisy. Sounds like they’re packing—some thuds every now and then.”

“Was it loud?”

He gently stroked her ear. It was a tender touch, but unlike usual, he pulled away quickly.

“I was just curious. Our building’s usually friendly with neighbors and all.”

“It’ll be quiet soon.”

“...What?”

“I’m heading out.”

He stepped back, and the sound of the doorknob turning followed.

Right then—“Babe!” Seoryeong reached out instinctively. Her voice cracked as a tender pet name tumbled out on impulse.

But he only paused for a second. He didn’t respond. He didn’t call her the same way with a smile, didn’t lean in for a kiss like he usually would.

“......”

“......”

A strange, inexplicable silence settled between them.

Suddenly, she felt like he was looking at her.

But he wasn’t smiling.

When her husband smiled, there was always a certain sound and subtle vibration that she could sense, even without sight. She knew those signals well. They were married, after all—lived with skin against skin.

Since last night... something’s been wrong with you.

What the hell is going on?

But she didn’t dare ask. She just shook her head and let her arm fall back to her side. It’s nothing... Her voice came out like a sigh, thin and hoarse from moaning all night.

Click. Beep-beep. The door locked behind him.

He always said “I’ll be back” before leaving. He was still kind, still warm—but something felt off, and it wouldn’t # Nоvеlight # stop bothering her.

No...! Don’t overthink it. Seoryeong shook her head furiously. Her therapist once warned her that obsessively doubting every little thing was a dangerous sign.

She moved her legs deliberately, as if to cut off her spiraling thoughts. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

—“...I’m off work now. Front... withdrawal... all done.”

Then, from beyond the thick steel door, his voice echoed faintly, mingled with the sound of his casual footsteps.

Did I mishear him?

He’s not off work, he’s going to work...

Seoryeong furrowed her brows, then scolded herself. I must’ve misheard. She let out a deliberate sigh. “Ugh...”

If it’s gotten this far, then maybe I really am sick.

****

—“The phone is powered off or unreachable. You’ll be connected to voicemail after the beep. Additional charges may apply.”

She was going to lose it.

It was 4 a.m. And her husband still wasn’t answering his phone.

It had been nine hours since she’d last heard from him. The man who always clocked out like a machine at 7 p.m. sharp.

She’d chewed her fingernails down to jagged shards, blood beading in the cracks. The bitter scent of iron crept up through her nose. Numbly, she started biting the nails on her other hand.

How did it come to this?

It started with “Something must’ve come up,” and spiraled into “Maybe there was an emergency at work,” and then “Maybe he had to step out for a last-minute errand and ended up at a company dinner.”

She tried to string together as many calm, reasonable thoughts as possible, like braiding a rope to climb out of panic. If she didn’t, she’d end up in the place she didn’t want to go—“See? He’s got another woman,” or “He doesn’t love you.”

That’s why she needed her therapist in the first place.

Seoryeong inhaled deeply, again and again. Waiting. Hoping he’d come through the door first. Hoping he’d be the one to dispel this clinging darkness.

—“The number you have dialed is either incorrect or no longer in service. Please check the number and try again...”

Then the company phone came up as disconnected. Panic flooded her.

“What the fuck is this...?”

A cold smile flickered across her lips.

Her husband worked for a small company that made and sold medical equipment. He had given her this number himself.

Maybe the company went under?

And so... ah... so that’s why...

She forced herself to breathe again.

But her hands couldn’t stop drumming on the table. Tap, tap, tap. She tried to picture him, busy and frantic at the office.

He probably hasn’t even eaten yet—just running around trying to fix everything. Yeah. That must be it. So I can’t bother him. Other wives would trust their husbands without question. That’s what good wives do...

Just think good thoughts.

Like she was possessed, Seoryeong stumbled toward the kitchen. She needed to do something. Maybe she could at least make warm bean sprout soup for when he got home.

She didn’t cook often—her husband always insisted it was too dangerous—but she was good at it. Most of the housework was already done before he got home anyway.

Okay, first rinse the bean sprouts... then slice the chili peppers...

But the more time passed, the more her breath grew short, her fingers rushed. Then—

“Ah...!”

A sharp cry escaped. While slicing a pepper, she’d nicked her finger. The skin stung with a dull throb.

Without even thinking about putting on a coat, Seoryeong grabbed her walking stick and shoved her feet into slippers. Outside, it was drizzling. Tap, tap, tap—the sound of her stick searching the pavement grew frantic.

Her husband was missing.

That was the only thought echoing through her head. Over and over.

****

“...I think my husband might be missing—”

Her body trembled, soaked to the bone in rain. Her voice, shaking in pathetic fear, was barely louder than a whisper.

But the moment she pushed open the door of the local police substation, a group of officers sprang up like wound-up springs and shouted in loud, commanding voices, as if scolding her.

“Put the knife down!”

“...What?”

“Whose blood is that?!”

It was deafening. The radio buzzed to her left, and footsteps rushed from the right—chaos everywhere. As the police approached her, their presence growing nearer, Seoryeong instinctively stepped forward. No, wait—my husband is mi—

“Ahhhh! Drop the knife! Officer, restrain her!”

Someone rushed toward her, and Seoryeong, startled, swung her cane and struck them.

Thwack! Judging by the sound, she’d hit them square in the shoulder. “Ugh...!” they groaned, and before they could recover, she shouted again.

“I said, I think my husband is missing!”

“Yes, we understand. But first—just put down the knife!”

“...!”

Only then did she realize she was still holding the kitchen knife she’d used to cut chili peppers, having run out of the house in a panic.

Flustered, she thrust the knife out toward them. A wave of “Whoooa!” rolled through the officers like a chain reaction. She handed it over safely and sighed as if in shame. Yeah... she really wasn’t in her right mind.

She brushed the wet strands of hair from her face, which had been clinging there the whole time. As she wiped away the moisture from her cheeks, the atmosphere abruptly grew still.

...What was that?

Even for a time past 4 a.m., the air had become unnervingly cold.

“There’s... blood...”

“...Sorry?”

“Miss, you said your husband is missing?”

“Yes...! I’d like to file a missing person report, please...!”

“......”

But despite her urgency, the officers didn’t respond right away. There was only a low murmur of hushed voices.

“Please have a seat.”

A metal chair scraped against the floor with an awful screech.

“We’ll begin with your report. What’s your name?”

The officer wasn’t riled up, but thankfully, he didn’t sound indifferent either. His voice suggested the last traces of sleep had been shaken off.

But for Seoryeong—who had imagined every worst-case scenario on her way here—the moment she stepped into the police station, all those anxious thoughts suddenly started to feel horrifyingly real. It took just seconds for her insides to collapse.

“...Han Seoryeong.”

“All right, Ms. Han Seoryeong. How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven...”

“What does your husband look like?”

“Oh, Officer...!”

A youthful voice cut in, and from the sound of it, someone had just elbowed the officer—ack! he grunted. Seoryeong spoke calmly.

“It’s all right. As you can see, I’m blind. So my husband wears the same type of clothes depending on the day. Today, he’d be in a white dress shirt, gray suit, and a blue tie. And...”

She clutched her cane and lowered her head. Bile surged up her throat, and she swallowed it down hard, grinding her teeth.

“I don’t know his face. But we have wedding photos at home.”

“When was the last time you were in contact with him?”

“It’s been about nine hours.”

“Hm...”

The officer’s voice suddenly turned awkward, like he didn’t know how to continue. There was the rough sound of him scratching his head.

“I’m afraid we can’t start an active search right away. We need to wait at least twenty-four hours after contact has been lost to begin a formal investigation.”

“......”

“It’s just... in most cases, the missing person comes back home within that time. That’s why it became standard procedure. If there’s a suspicion of criminal activity, though, we can act sooner.”

“Criminal... activity?”

Now her entire body was shaking. Whether it was because her wet clothes were leeching away her body heat, or because she could practically hear the sound of her husband vanishing from her life—she couldn’t tell.

“Yes. For instance, someone might be disguising an assault case as a missing person incident.”

“...!”