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... -yeon let me go. I raised my upper body and rubbed my scratchy sore throat, asking, “…when did you notice?”

No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure it out. Until now, while dealing with Cheon Sa-yeon, I never talked about my sister…

“If you thought your sister was still alive, Han Yi-gyeol—” he threw the red jacket he was wearing at me “—you would’ve asked for her in return.”

“Ah…”

“You didn’t cry or beg to see her like you used to.”

Then I remember ...

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