The funeral home was too quiet.
Min-Hee had expected something different—organ music maybe, or the low murmur of mourners sharing memories. Instead, there was just the hollow silence of a room that had seen too much grief and learned to swallow it without a sound.
She sat in the wheelchair Seo-Yoon had forced her into, staring at the closed casket at the front of the room. Dark wood. Polished brass handles. A photograph of Manager Kim propped on an easel beside it, the same tired-but-kind smile she remembered.
It didn't feel real.
None of this felt real.
"There's barely anyone here," Min-Hee whispered.
Seo-Yoon, standing behind the wheelchair with her hands gripping the handles too tight, made a low sound in her throat. "The company didn't announce it publicly. They released a statem
