Minah quietly excused herself and returned to her room.
Her sketchbook sat on the desk. The dress photo was still open on her phone.
She needed rest, but more than that—she needed clarity. She wanted the truth, no matter how painful.
She lay down, eyes fluttering shut.
---
Dream.
Twelve years ago.
The world was still tinted in childhood haze, but the memories were sharper now.
She stood in a sunlit room, holding the hand of a woman with soft eyes and elegant posture.
Kim Sora.
She wasn't her real mother.
But she was warm. Gentle. The only adult in Minah's life who ever looked at her with love, not judgment.
Though the house was filled with whispered cruelty and echoing footsteps of power, Sora made space for softness.
That day, Sora knelt in front of her and held up a delicate dress—white with pale pink cherry blossoms stitched near the hem.
"I had this made for you," she said gently.
Minah blinked. "For me?"
Sora smiled. "Yes. It's yours. And from now on… I want to call you something special."
She brushed a strand of Minah's hair behind her ear and whispered:
"Annie."
Minah tilted her head, puzzled.
"Annie means grace," Sora said softly. "A new name, for a new start."
Minah touched the dress carefully, as if it were made of cloud.
From behind the door, angry voices rang out.
Sora's husband—President Park Dojin—yelling at someone on the phone. Another woman's name. Another betrayal.
Minah heard it.
She wasn't old enough to understand it all, but her heart clenched.
She remembered hiding behind the curtain that night.
Watching Sora cry.
Watching her stay strong anyway.
And the next day… she was gone.
Stripped of the name.
The dress taken from her.
Her identity erased.
---
Back in the present, Minah jolted awake.
Tears slipped down her cheeks before she even realized it.
She sat up, trembling, and typed into her notes app.
"Her name was Kim Sora.
She called me Annie.
She gave me the dress.
She loved me."
She looked at her reflection.
And for the first time, she didn't feel like just Minah.
She felt like someone who had been loved.
-----
Later that evening, the villa felt quieter than usual.
Exhaustion had settled into the bones of everyone inside.
With no energy to cook—and even less energy to pretend like they weren't emotionally wrecked—Hyun Soo had caved and ordered takeout.
By the time Minah stepped out of her room, the three men were sprawled across the living room couch, looking more like battle survivors than bodyguards and CEOs.
Hyun Soo was staring blankly at the ceiling.
"I don't even remember what we talked about today," he muttered.
Kang Ho nodded from his seat, still scrolling through files half-heartedly. "Today's info hit like a train."
That's when Jaewook stepped out of the kitchen, holding four drinks in hand.
He spotted Minah at the staircase.
"Have some drinks," he said gently, walking over and handing her a cup of bubble tea. "Dinner's on the table. Takeout."
Minah gave a small nod.
But instead of eating, she walked slowly toward the living room—drink in one hand, phone in the other.
She stood in front of them and placed her phone on the coffee table, face-up.
The screen showed a short paragraph she had typed out earlier:
"I remembered more.
She called me Annie.
My name was Seo Young.
She gave me that name—Kim Sora."
The room went still.
No one spoke.
Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper… Minah spoke.
Her voice trembled, unused to sound—but the words were clear:
"Kim Sora.
Annie.
Seo Young."
Hyun Soo blinked.
Kang Ho sat up straighter.
Jaewook froze where he stood, eyes fixed on her.
Because for the first time since they'd met—
Minah wasn't just typing.
She was speaking.
And reclaiming every name they tried to take from her.