The mansion was unusually quiet that evening. Hiroto stood in his vast, ornate office, staring out at the sprawling garden below. He had been busy with meetings all day, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to Eunji. She hadn’t come to dinner, hadn’t called him, and when he checked in on her training sessions, they had reported she was absent. He could feel the unease creeping in, something was off, but he couldn't place it.

For the past few weeks, things between them had been… strained. Eunji had become more distant. She avoided him in the halls, never spoke to him unless necessary, and when they did meet, her responses were curt, like she was holding back, hiding behind a mask of politeness. Her once vibrant energy seemed muted, replaced with a quiet detachment. Hiroto, usually sharp in observing people, couldn’t ignore the unsettling feeling in his gut anymore. Something wasn’t right.

A ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. It was Jihoon.

“Hiroto, we need to talk about Eunji,” Jihoon’s voice was tense on the other end. "She hasn't contacted us in weeks. Your 'niece' hasn't answered any of our calls or messages. It's like she’s disappeared."

Hiroto’s grip tightened around the phone. “I haven’t seen her either, Jihoon. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but she’s been avoiding me too. It’s like she’s hiding from both of us. Have you spoken to her?”

“Not in a while. She’s been distant, and we thought maybe it was just a phase, but now I’m worried, Hiroto. Is everything alright with her?”

Hiroto didn’t respond immediately. His mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Eunji’s behavior had changed abruptly, and now it seemed like she was retreating from both her "family" and him, the man she had always admired, the uncle she had once trusted. The distance between them felt like an insurmountable chasm, and for the first time, Hiroto couldn’t find a way to bridge it.

“I’ll try to speak with her again,” Hiroto said finally, his voice strained. "Let me handle this, Jihoon. We’ll figure it out."

After ending the call, Hiroto lingered in his office, the weight of his guilt hanging heavily in the air. He had always intended to protect Eunji, to make sure she succeeded. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed her, that the truth he had buried deep within himself had driven a wedge between them.

Hours later, Hiroto walked through the mansion, determined to find Eunji. He passed her room, which was eerily silent, and walked down the hall toward the training wing. He had the unsettling feeling that she was deliberately avoiding him, avoiding everyone. His footsteps echoed off the marble floors as he made his way deeper into the house.

When he finally reached the door to her private studio, he hesitated. Eunji had always been so open with him in the past—until now. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear soft music playing from inside. Slowly, he pushed it open.

There she was, standing in front of the mirror, her back to him. Her hair was longer now, more refined, falling around her face like a veil. She wore a simple black dress, her posture poised, but her expression was distant, detached. It was as if she didn’t even notice him standing in the doorway.

"Eunji," Hiroto said softly, his voice tentative.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t even turn to look at him. It was like he wasn’t even there.

"I've been trying to reach you," Hiroto continued, stepping into the room. "You haven't answered any of my calls, and you’ve been avoiding your parents too. What’s going on?"

Eunji finally turned her head, but there was nothing in her eyes that resembled the warm, affectionate girl she used to be. The girl who had once looked up to him with trust and admiration.

"I'm just… busy," Eunji replied in a cool, controlled tone. "I’ve been focused on my training and work."

Hiroto could feel the distance between them growing wider with each word. Her voice, so cold and clipped, made his chest tighten. But something else unsettled him—something that made his breath catch in his throat. As Eunji shifted slightly, the soft light from the mirror illuminated her face, and for the first time, he saw the stark resemblance between her and Miyako, his late wife.

It was as if he were looking at a ghost—Miyako’s eyes, her nose, her lips—all reflected in Eunji’s features. Her beauty, once hidden beneath layers of forced restraint, now glowed like an image from his past. She looked so much like Miyako that it shook him to the core.

But he couldn’t speak it aloud. Not now. Not with the truth still locked inside him, buried under lies and secrets. Hiroto fought the urge to call her out on it, to tell her what he knew, but something stopped him. The weight of the years he had spent hiding the truth, the guilt of keeping Eunji in the dark, pressed on his chest like a suffocating weight.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“What do you mean?” Eunji asked, her tone unreadable.

Hiroto looked at her, his expression faltering. "Never mind."

There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just want you to be happy, Eunji."

Eunji didn’t respond. She simply looked at him with those cold, distant eyes. A silence stretched between them, thick and oppressive, before Hiroto turned to leave.

He knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. But Eunji wasn’t ready to tell him the truth, and neither was he. She had already found out. The papers, the photos, the slip-ups from the staff—all of it had unraveled the truth, but she wasn’t confronting him yet.

And so, they remained locked in their silent war, each of them caught in their own web of lies, each of them too scared to face what had been hidden for so long. Hiroto didn’t know how long he could keep pretending. But for now, Eunji was keeping her distance, and he couldn’t bring himself to push her further away.

He just couldn’t.

As Hiroto walked away, his mind was a storm of guilt and regret. He had built this life for her, given her everything he thought she needed. But now, with the truth threatening to destroy everything, he couldn’t help but wonder—had he ruined her life forever?