CHAPTER 3
Haneul’s grave stood exactly where it always had.
The handcrafted angel statue bore his brother’s name and dates, its surface catching the light in a way that made Chung-Hee stop. He knelt and placed the lilies carefully at its base.
A tear slipped free.
“Haneul,” he said softly, voice unsteady. “Another year without you.”
The silence pressed in.
“The world keeps moving. But part of me is still here, with you.” He swallowed. “NovaTech is growing. We’re close to something unprecedented. I wish you were here to see it. Maybe you are. Maybe you’re the reason I keep going.”
A breath.
“I haven’t visited in a month. Forgive me. Mom is well, she’ll come this afternoon. I haven’t heard from Dad. His wife had a daughter. Catie.” A faint smile cracked through. “She reminds me of you. God, I’ll have to scare off her future suitors.”
The smile faded. “Why did you do it, brother?” His voice trembled. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or Mom? How badly did that man hurt you before you gave up?”
He clenched his fists.
He stayed kneeling long after the words ran out… until the distant sound of a car engine broke the stillness.
The visitor had arrived.
Last year, Chung-Hee had come late, after a meeting he couldn’t cancel, and found offerings already placed at Haneul’s grave: money, flowers, food. Everything his brother loved. A warm Americano from Maestro’s. Pepero. Yakgwa.
It hadn’t been a mistake.
Only someone who truly knew Haneul would have known.
His thoughts had gone immediately to Noeul.
And if it was him, after everything his family had done, after he had the audacity to send a message last night, Chung-Hee had sworn he would kill him.
He moved quickly, retreating several meters away. Close enough to hear, but far enough to remain unseen.
A tall figure approached with his hands full.
Chung-Hee waited. At first, he couldn’t make out what the visitor was saying. Only the second sentence reached him.
“I don’t deserve to stand here, Haneul,” the young man whispered.
Chung-Hee’s breath caught.
The man knelt, tracing the carved name with trembling fingers.
Then he reached into his pocket.
Haneul’s favorite snacks.
Chung-Hee instinctively pressed a hand against his own pocket, where an identical packet rested.
“You’d probably tell me to stop blaming myself.” A humorless laugh escaped the young man. “You always did.”
Chung-Hee went still.
Rage flared—
then shattered.
His eyes burned, but Chung-Hee didn’t move. He had to hear everything. For a few moments, the words became too quiet to make out. Then Noeul spoke again.
“I didn’t come to your funeral. How could I face your family? My brother’s actions were unforgivable. And I was responsible too. I didn’t protect you.”
Noeul’s voice cracked.
Chung-Hee dragged both hands through his hair, trying to release the pressure building inside his mind.
“I didn’t realize how far he pushed you. I should have stopped him. I should have hit him that day, when he was shouting, when he was hurting us both. Maybe then he would have thought twice.”
Chung-Hee’s hands trembled despite every effort to remain composed.
“After you died, everything collapsed,” Noeul continued. “They blamed my brother. Destroyed him. But he was still my brother, I couldn’t abandon him.” A bitter breath. “They blamed me too. Called me a liar. A murderer.”
Silence swallowed his words.
“No one cared that I loved you. That you were my best friend.”
For a moment, Noeul said nothing.
“Haneul… Gong killed himself last year. On the anniversary of your death.”
The words landed like a blow.
“He never recovered. He blamed himself for your pain, for everything. He left a note saying that he loved you and wished he could save you. I wish I could save you too. I’m sorry for your family’s pain as well.
If there were a way to take it away, I would.
I’d give my life to bring everyone happiness. ”
The cemetery swallowed his grief. Chung-Hee stayed hidden, unmoving.
“I never told you I loved you.” His voice dropped to almost nothing. “I still do. Can you forgive me, just once?”
Silence.
“I’m leaving Korea. There’s nothing holding me here anymore. Losing you and Gong ended everything.”
His final words barely carried.
“I hate myself.”
A long silence followed.
“I’m sorry I’m still alive, hyung.”
Another breath.
“I’ll keep you close. I promise… Maybe I’ll join you soon.”
When Noeul finally left, Chung-Hee stepped forward. He didn’t try to stop the tears. They fell, hot and sharp.
That boy had been Haneul’s closest friend.
Gong’s twin.
He carried his face. His blood. He was family…
The family of his brother’s killer.
If Chung-Hee had seen him before hearing those words, he would’ve broken his face, shattered it so it wouldn’t resemble Gong’s anymore.
But now… now he had listened.
The boy who shared the face of his brother’s tormentor had loved Haneul.
And Haneul had loved him back.
Haneul had mentioned Noeul in his suicide note.
The realization pierced him. He had never even known his brother’s friends.
After the divorce, when he moved to the U.S. with his father, they saw each other only on holidays. He’d only returned to Korea after Haneul’s death.
In that final note, Haneul had asked them to forgive and protect Noeul. Had he really loved him enough to forgive his weakness? To ask that of them?
Chung-Hee had ignored his brother’s final request. He’d chosen hatred. Bitterness. Blame. But now… he couldn’t see Noeul as the monster he had imagined.
What now?
Punish Noeul in Gong’s place?
Or honor the last thing his brother had ever asked of him?
Watching Noeul offered him a way to postpone the choice. If Noeul was in danger, Chung-Hee could protect him for Haneul. If he discovered that Noeul had built a happy life too easily, he could punish him. Either way, Noeul would remain within his reach.
He stood frozen until San approached from the path behind.
“Mr. Lee,” San said quietly, “I’m sorry to disturb your moment. It’s past 9:30. If we want to make your appointment, we should leave now.”
Frustration flashed across Chung-Hee’s face. “Already?” His voice was low, rough. “Wait for me in the car. Five minutes.”
San bowed slightly and retreated.
Chung-Hee turned back to the grave. He stayed a little longer, speaking of small things—Jun and Kija, work, the weather. Details that felt like breathing again.
“I have to go,” he said finally. “Work’s calling. Mom will be here soon. Are you happy today?”
A pause.
“The people who loved you most came to see you. As always, our father is absent.”
He exhaled. “I’ll come back soon. I love you.”
During the drive to NovaTech, Chung-Hee caught San watching him repeatedly through the rearview mirror.
When they stepped into the elevator at the NovaTech tower, San hesitated, then spoke. “Mr. Lee, is something wrong?”
“Yes,” Chung-Hee said. “I want everything you can find on Jung Gong and his twin brother. I want a full report by the end of the day.”
San froze at the names. “Jung Gong and his brother?” he asked carefully. “After all this time?”
“Focus on following orders,” Chung-Hee said coolly. “Not on gossip.”
San bowed his head. “Understood. I’ll begin right away.”
As the elevator doors opened onto the executive floor, San waited for Chung-Hee to step out first, then followed two steps behind.
“One more thing, San,” Chung-Hee added, pausing at his office door. “Find out when the brother’s flight is.”
“To where?”
“I don’t know.”
San blinked. “You’re asking me to find a needle in a haystack.”
“By the end of the day,” Chung-Hee replied, eyes narrowing. “Or else.”
San said nothing. His mouth tightened, but he nodded once reluctantly.