Chapter 10: The Gilded Cage

When Yoosun asked, masking her true intent, Seohee’s eyes widened, and she replied, “Yes, of course.”

At those words, Yoosun’s expression darkened.

Is she provoking me? She knew that Leehyun’s biological mother was just a few floors down. She must want me to tremble in fear, wondering when she’ll reveal it.

Is that why she made a show of being admitted to this specific hospital?

Yoosun was now filled with all sorts of suspicions. She had no idea how far Jin Seohee was planning to deceive her with those clear, blank eyes.

“When do you intend to return to work at the art gallery?”

The matter of Leehyun’s mother was a problem, but the art trading records held by Jin Seohee were also a major headache.

You drain the blood out of people in every way, Jin Seohee. Yoosun chewed on the girl’s name in her mind, over and over again.

“The art gallery?”

“Yes. Because of the materials you’re holding onto, work isn’t moving forward properly.”

At Yoosun’s words, Seohee looked her straight in the eyes.

“Then that’s a big problem, Song… Director.”

Her tone was genuinely worried. Seohee had hesitated as if choosing her honorifics, and when she finally settled on calling her ‘Director Song,’ Yoosun let out a hollow, incredulous breath.

Who is this girl really mocking? Suppressing the urge to snap her snow-white neck, Yoosun repeatedly tucked her hair back behind her ears.

“You won’t be going to work at the gallery.”

Leehyun drew a sharp line, even though the question hadn’t been directed at him.

“What?”

“I said, she won’t be going to work.”

At the repeated question, Leehyun looked annoyed, raised his eyebrows, and slowly rose to his feet. Yoosun, who had been hesitant under Leehyun’s condescending gaze, lowered her upper body toward Seohee.

“Seohee, your opinion will be what matters.”

Then, she whispered into Seohee’s ear, “I’ll be waiting.”

Once Yoosun left, Seohee let out a small sigh. Leehyun calmly observed her complexion.

“Did I work at an art gallery?”

At Seohee’s question, Leehyun thought for a moment before nodding.

“To be precise, you assisted Director Song with her work.”

“Why?”

Leehyun was momentarily struck speechless by that natural question. He had to answer, but he couldn’t find the words for what she was waiting to hear.

Damn it. Leehyun cursed internally.

Even though he had laid down the law that she didn’t need to do any work related to his family, he hadn’t spoken up twice when he saw her clinging to Director Song. He hadn’t asked questions, either. He had simply left her to it.

“Well… that’s a good question.”

“……Yes?”

Seohee expressed her confusion at his meaningless answer. Suddenly, Leehyun cupped Seohee’s cheeks with both hands and forced her to meet his gaze.

“Why on earth… did you help Director Song with her work?”

Hmm? Seohee.

After staring at her for a long while, as if unable to bear it, Leehyun buried his face in her shoulder.

In the end, Leehyun couldn’t give her an answer. He couldn’t explain why Seohee had endured his displeasure and stoically continued to help Song Yoosun.

***

Clack, clack. Yoosun, accompanied by her secretarial staff, burst through the door of the Gayun Hospital Chairperson’s office.

“Secretary Park. Go and bring the hospital director to me.”

“H-he is currently attending an overseas seminar, ma’am.”

Secretary Park reported with a highly nervous face. Yoosun tucked her hair behind her ears and let out a dry laugh.

“A seminar? On the very day I decide to visit, of all days, an overseas seminar?”

Secretary Park gulped. Even to him, it seemed highly suspicious.

The hospital director wasn’t someone who liked seminars, and he was the type who only attended overseas academic conferences when absolutely forced to.

Was it acrophobia? Or was it fear of flying? He even skipped conferences he was required to attend.

Secretary Park, recalling the director’s habits, glanced warily at Yoosun.

“Then bring the deputy director, right now.”

Yoosun spun her chair around, habitually rolling a golf ball in her hand. Not long after Secretary Park left, the deputy director entered calmly.

“It’s been a while, Chairperson.”

“Do I look like I have the time for polite greetings? Deputy Director Lee Joo-yeop.”

Yoosun put emphasis on the ‘Deputy’ part, and Joo-yeop’s expression hardened.

“While our CEO Yoon was admitting his wife to the hospital, what were you doing, Deputy Director? Without even reporting it to me.”

Joo-yeop’s face contorted as if he found it absurd, though he didn’t show it overtly.

“I have seen and heard nothing.”

“You’ve seen and heard nothing?”

Yoosun’s eyebrows twisted violently.

“The management of the VIP ward is not under my jurisdiction. You know this.”

The person who made me into what I am in this hospital is you, so why act like this now? Joo-yeop looked Yoosun straight in the eye.

“Then I suppose I won’t be able to see a single medical record for our CEO’s wife—no, wait. Our daughter-in-law, Jin Seohee. Because our ‘Deputy’ Director has had his hands and feet tied. Isn’t that right?”

“You know very well.”

As Joo-yeop looked at her with resentment, Yoosun curled one corner of her lips coyly.

“That is why I intend to give you an opportunity this time. Hospital Director Lee Joo-yeop. Such a title sounds so good, doesn’t it? Don’t you think?”

Joo-yeop’s eyes flickered momentarily at Yoosun’s words.

“Prove it. Show me that ‘brilliant’ ability of yours.”

“I will… think about it.”

If you’ve betrayed me once, why can’t you do it twice? Chewing over Yoosun’s proposal, Joo-yeop left the room, leaving room for doubt rather than answering immediately.

‘What is there to think about? If she gives it to you, just take it. Honestly, everyone around here acts so incompetent.’

Unable to suppress her rising anger, Yoosun slammed the golf ball onto the desk with a bang.

***

Seohee sat blankly on the bed, looking out the window. The sky viewed from the high floor was so clear and bright it was dazzling.

“Embodied memory…?”

Seohee murmured to herself.

Given that she was in the early stages of pregnancy, they decided not to proceed with CT or MRI scans.

Instead, they conducted basic tests—question and answer sessions and foundational memory assessments—and the doctor concluded that there wouldn’t be any major obstacles in her daily life.

He added that while her memory of people or specific situations was gone, her common sense, level of knowledge, and things she had already learned hadn’t faded significantly, so she might react reflexively to situations as she went about her life.

Since her memory hadn’t been wiped clean like a blank slate, she shouldn’t worry too much because her ability to navigate spaces or use objects, as well as her emotional reactions to people, would remain intact.

‘Is that a relief?’

Seohee pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them.

The doctor said there was no need to be impatient or frustrated, but things didn’t always go as planned. She sometimes felt completely drained.

“I worked at an art gallery?”

They had definitely said that. When she asked if she had majored in art, they said no. What on earth did I do for work?

Because Leehyun seemed not to know, either, she felt a sudden rush of fear.

What if I did something bad? Just thinking about it made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

‘What if something I don’t even know about comes back to haunt him?’

The way the person named Song Yoosun looked at her wasn’t normal. It was a burning gaze, as if she were desperately looking for something while simultaneously seething with rage.

“I’m scared.”

At times, she felt like fear was going to swallow her whole. Whenever that distant sensation rushed in, her vision would turn blurry.

“Seohee.”

The familiar bass was clearly Leehyun’s. She didn’t lift her head because his voice, drenched in worry, sounded so pleasant. Then, she felt the bed sink.

Leehyun had sat down beside her. A unique, cool scent—neither herbal nor woody—tickled her nose. She felt as if her nauseous stomach might finally calm down.

“Are you not feeling well?”

As she peeked out, he pressed his hand to her forehead.

“You have a mild fever. Why is Secretary Shin outside?”

His furrowed brow and blackened pupils were clearly signs of anger, yet his voice remained gentle.

“I wanted to be alone. Did I… do something wrong?”

Leehyun shook his head and cupped Seohee’s face with both hands. He met her gaze so closely their lips were almost touching as he said precisely:

“No, do whatever you want.”

Anything. If that’s what you want.

Leehyun coaxed her, his voice tender.

Leehyun had noticed long ago that Seohee’s moods fluctuated.

At first, she hadn’t known how to treat him, so she expressed less, but now it showed little by little. It felt like the result of him constantly telling her she could do whatever she pleased.

If it were the Seohee before she lost her memory, she would have kept her emotions like anxiety or fear buried, but Leehyun was quite satisfied with the fact that the current Seohee showed her confusion exactly as it was.

“Eat something.”

Seohee shook her head. Leehyun let out a heavy sigh. Everything was good, but her appetite had diminished significantly.

No, it was beyond diminished. Seohee had always had a small appetite. She wasn’t a picky eater, but she couldn’t eat much at once.

She had always been like that, but lately, he hadn’t seen her eat even a single spoonful properly. That fact drove Leehyun insane.

“I don’t want to eat.”

At first, she had made an effort to eat, but after the OB/GYN explained that morning sickness was a sign the baby was healthy, and that while it might be hard for the mother, not eating didn’t mean the baby wouldn’t grow—she had been stubborn about it ever since.

Because of that, it was Leehyun who was burning up with worry from the sidelines.

Is the baby the problem right now? She looks like she’s about to collapse.

Her pale complexion now looked devoid of all color. Her lips, which had once been flushed, were parched like a dried rose. Her eyes, which were already large, had grown even bigger.

“Seohee.”

Leehyun called her name tenderly, brushing the corners of her eyes.

“Yes.”

Even without strength, she’s so good at answering.

“Shall we drink at least some water?”

Leehyun turned his head slightly to point at a bottle of water on the table. After Seohee had thrown up the water too, he had had them buy every single kind of water—imported, domestic, and everything else in between.

As a result, there were so many diverse kinds of water in the room, one might believe they were holding a water expo.

Seohee, who stared at it blankly, shook her head again this time.

Ha. Leehyun let out a hollow breath. It was lamentable that out of all those waters, not a single one could capture Jin Seohee’s palate.

What are these water companies doing? He stifled the curses rising in his throat.

“I want to go for a walk.”

Leehyun was delighted. Then, his neck muscles tensed. He was glad she wanted to do something, but a walk—not eating, but a walk? He doubted his ears, wondering if these words had really come from someone about to collapse.

“That is…”

Seohee’s voice was faster than Leehyun’s attempt to stop her.

“It’s too stuffy here.”

How could he refuse when she blinked those big eyes at him? Leehyun hurriedly grabbed an outer garment and covered Seohee’s shoulders.

“Shall I carry you?”

Can you really walk? Leehyun asked with his eyes, and Seohee gave a dry laugh.

“I’m fine.”

Liar. Who would believe that face is ‘fine’? Leehyun clicked his tongue in displeasure, yet he pulled Seohee along gently.

“It’s just the garden right next door—”

As Leehyun led her naturally to the outdoor garden attached to the VIP ward, Seohee stopped walking.

“I want to go down to the first floor.”

Since she had only been in the hospital, she felt truly trapped. She felt so stifled she wondered if that was why she couldn’t eat.

Leehyun signaled to the bodyguards standing behind him while walking to the VIP-only elevator. There was a significant number of them following, but only two moved to the elevator with the two of them.

“We can go down directly.”

The private elevator was set up so they could go straight down to the basement.

“The third-floor garden would be best.”

As Leehyun said this, judging that the first-floor outdoor garden was dangerous, the bodyguard behind him quickly relayed instructions via an ear-mic.

They were likely clearing out the people who had been there before they arrived and were strictly controlling access.

“……Yes.”

As Seohee answered, Leehyun pressed the button for the 3rd floor as if he had been waiting. When the light turned on, Seohee watched the elevator button quietly and swallowed hard.

“I guess there’s no 4th floor?”

At Seohee’s words, Leehyun looked at the buttons again and said:

“These days, not many people think much of it, but in the past, there were cases where it was deliberately left out because it was considered unlucky.”

Leehyun answered nonchalantly.

There was no button indicating the floor between the 3rd and 5th floors in the hospital elevator. Seohee’s gaze seemed nailed to the space between the floor buttons. Her fingertips turned cold, and her vision blurred.

As Seohee stumbled and grabbed the bar nearby, Leehyun wrapped his arms around her urgently.

“Seohee.”

“I… I feel a bit… dizzy.”

It’s strange. Seohee went limp in Leehyun’s arms. Leehyun, turning deathly pale, hurriedly pressed the button to go back up.