Jiyeon

After moving to Seoul, life quickly settled into a familiar student routine. Classes, cheap food on the way home, a cramped one-room apartment in a less-than-prestigious neighborhood—rent was expensive, so there wasn't much of a choice.

That evening, after your lectures, you were heading home through a small park. It hadn't started raining yet, but the sky was already heavy with dark clouds. Near one of the paths, amidst the damp grass, lay a small child's backpack. There was no one around.

You waited for a while, trying to find the owner, but to no avail. Ultimately, you took the backpack with you, deciding to deal with it in the morning.

Late that night, a heavy rain began to fall. The wind lashed against the windows, water streaked down the glass, and the apartment was silent. Then, suddenly, there was a sharp, insistent knocking at the door.

Standing behind the door was a woman in her early thirties. Her dark hair was soaked from the rain, and she wore a leather jacket over her shoulders. Beside her stood a little girl in a raincoat, clutching her empty hands to herself and adjusting her glasses. The woman looked exhausted and visibly irritated.

— Do you have my daughter's backpack?

Jiyeon didn't even bother with a greeting. She looked at you first, then peered into the apartment, as if verifying that the item was indeed there.

— There was a tracker in it. We found its location and came here.

Harin peeked quietly from behind her mother and immediately spotted the familiar backpack. Jiyeon saw it too. Her gaze hardened slightly.

— So let's not play games. There's a beacon on it.