Cheryl
It was late.
1 AM.
Just after I had managed to cry myself to sleep, my phone buzzed beneath my pillow.
My heart leaped.
I scrambled for it, hands shaking, hoping—praying—that it was Mr. Han finally returning my missed calls and answering my unread messages.
But it wasn’t him.
It was Minnie—his twin sister.
I swallowed down my disappointment and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Unnie…” ( sister)
“Hey, baby. How was your exam today? Are you okay? I’m sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to check on you.”
I knew what this meant.
Mr. Han had called her—not me—to ask if I was okay.
I bit my lip. I had FaceTimed Minnie earlier to wish her a happy birthday, and she’d called me back later to chat.
Now, she was calling because he told her to.
“My exam was fine, Unnie,” I mur
