The Warmth That Lingers
A few days later. On the set of Middle.
Even though it was still early morning and yawns hadn’t yet fully faded, a piercing scream echoed across the filming site.
"Hahaha."
"Puhahaha."
It was morning, so low energy would have been understandable. Yet the half-finished shoot was already brimming with life. The reason was none other than the explosive chemistry between Woo Dan-wol and Han Da-sol. Before filming began, Woo Dan-wol had been chatting with the staff when he suddenly started teasing her.
"Stop, stop it!!"
Han Da-sol shrieked. Her face flushed bright red like a tomato. She waved both hands frantically, trying to block Woo Dan-wol. The staff’s laughter poured out nonstop.
A few days earlier, at the Cheongsang Arts Awards. Since they were all industry professionals, most of the staff had watched it. Moreover, the lead actor of the very film they were shooting had won an award? As his status rose, the movie’s box office prospects would only grow stronger.
The tears in his acceptance speech. Because no one had expected it, the shock and joy were even greater. Not just the viewers, but the staff as well. At the time, they had watched with warm, proud smiles.
It was too funny. If he had teased her from a completely different angle, it might have felt uncomfortable. But Woo Dan-wol’s imitation was flawless, hitting every point with perfect timing. His expressions, breathing, even the sobbing sounds. It was truly a heaven-sent talent. The only problem was that he was using it to tease her.
"Dan, Dan-wol-ah..."
"Alright, I’ll stop."
Woo Dan-wol was relentless. If he had crossed the line, she could have gotten angry. But he knew exactly where the line was.
Han Da-sol trembled. If it had been someone she truly disliked, it would have been different. But her fluttering heart was pounding, telling her that even being teased like this was okay. When she let out a deep sigh, Woo Dan-wol looked at her with a faint smile. It was a truly beautiful smile.
The kind of smile that made her heart tickle and race for no reason at all.
"Shall we get ready?"
"...Yeah."
Even so, she loved the way he looked when he was acting. The childlike way he became completely absorbed in something. It was funny that it always came back to acting in the end. But she liked that about Woo Dan-wol so much that she couldn’t help but keep him in her heart.
Han Da-sol smiled. How wonderful it was to share the same profession and passion. She nodded and began preparing for the shoot.
Makeup and costume. The familiar suit already felt like a second skin.
Once everything was ready, Director Park Soo-yeon’s signal rang out.
"Senior."
"Yeah."
Inside a speeding car. Ji Hyo-rin was now racing toward the end of her training period. She had met many guardians in that short time—some furious, some eerily calm.
Yet Ji Hyo-rin kept glancing at his expression. She briefly pulled the car over to check the information on the brain-dead patient, but the atmosphere was far from good.
"Three years old… female. Hypoxic brain injury…"
She had three years of experience. But Kim Tae-min’s usually impassive face gradually turned ashen. It was devastating news. Ji Hyo-rin spoke carefully.
"If it’s hypoxic brain injury…"
"Something got stuck in the throat."
"Or…"
Kim Tae-min couldn’t finish his sentence. He could only hope it wasn’t that.
"Why… why isn’t he picking up…"
A woman was dialing a number. Her finger trembled violently as she pressed the call button. There was no answer on the other end.
She had once been someone’s mother. Someone’s wife. But not anymore.
Through the process of divorce, she had become an “ex-mother” and an “ex-wife.” The law had sided with the father. The child was only two years old. They must have decided the father’s arms were more suitable than the mother’s.
But the reality was a little different.
She had been a responsible person. But her ex-husband had been promiscuous. He lived for the pleasure of sex and games, choosing today’s joy over any future. An unplanned marriage must have felt like shackles. They had only dated for three weeks before getting married. It was never going to work.
Somehow she had held on through the pregnancy. She hadn’t wanted to bring a fatherless child into the world.
So she had endured it all and worked hard. But everything fell apart.
Just as there are all kinds of people in the world, there are also people who bear the title of parent yet behave nothing like one. Especially a young man still in his mid-twenties. That was more than enough to create a tragic story.
Had someone tipped him off? Maybe he thought taking the child and collecting child support would be easy money. So he divorced her and received the support payments.
But then this happened. The man who used to at least answer her calls had stopped responding entirely. No matter how many times she reached out, there was only silence. In the end, she tracked him down to the officetel where he was supposedly staying. A wave of anxiety swept over her. He had debts. And he loved alcohol and pleasure. A terrible premonition passed through her mind.
—Bang bang bang.
"Open the door! Hey! Is anyone there? Hello?!"
The knocking grew faster and more desperate. Then a smell drifted to the tip of her nose.
"...Gas?"
Gas. Charcoal briquettes. Something of that sort. The thought of suicide slammed into her mind with terrifying urgency. Her expression collapsed.
Her ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, and the child’s father might be capable of that. But then… what about the baby? It was the blood of a man she had come to hate, but it was also a child who carried her own blood.
She called 119. She called for help. She shouted to see if the landlord was there. Somehow, they managed to open the door.
"Ah… aah…"
Her face crumpled completely. The windows sealed tight with tape were horrifying. A man lying in the cramped space. And a little further away… the baby.
"My daughter…?"
A mother’s scream tore through the room. A ripping pain tore through her chest. Someone’s entire world was collapsing.
She stepped past the motionless man and lifted the child. The little body was still warm.
A human body. Its temperature. It was still warm.
"She’s alive! She’s still alive!"
"Ma’am, please wait—"
"I said she’s alive!! She’s warm!!"
She shouted at the motionless man and the firefighters who were hurriedly ventilating the room. My child is still warm. She’s this warm!
Time passed. It hadn’t even been two full days. Yet it felt like an endlessly long week.
"Ha… haha…"
She had clung desperately to the slender thread of hope that her child was alive, that she hadn’t died.
But then—brain death? What? You don’t even know if it’s brain death unless you consent to donation?
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. The tiny child hooked up to an oxygen respirator and countless machines. The mother looking at her little angel squeezed her eyes shut. Please, let this not be real.
There had been so much pain. So many wounds. So many things that tore her apart and dug into her.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the hospital room door. She flinched.
"Nice to meet you."
People in black suits stood there. Under normal circumstances, she would have been wary and asked who they were. But she already knew. She knew exactly who they were and why they had come. It was only a guess, yet she had never been more certain of anything in her life.
"It’s about the donation, isn’t it?"
"...Yes."
Kim Tae-min introduced himself. He explained that he was from the Korea Organ Donation Organization and listed the relevant details.
But none of the information reaching her ears was welcome. She wore a bitter, empty smile.
She was exhausted. Drained. Suffocated. So she spoke with raw emotion.
"First… would you listen to my story?"
"Yes. Of course."
She took a deep breath. It wasn’t a long story. It certainly wasn’t the kind of fairy tale her grandfather used to tell her as a child. It was nothing but a brutally cold reality.
"Today I went to… the police station."
"......"
"They said I’m under suspicion. Well… it’s a common story, isn’t it? The crazy ex-wife who couldn’t accept the divorce and committed a crime."
The very plot that appeared in dramas and movies. The short stories that circulated online had become her reality. Only now the roles were reversed, and all she felt was resentment and injustice.
It felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound. The charges would probably be dropped soon, but how could words possibly describe what she was feeling?
She poured out story after story. Kim Tae-min and Ji Hyo-rin couldn’t say a word. They were afraid their reactions might hurt her even more. They didn’t want to reopen wounds that someone had already torn wide open.
And then came what sounded like the final question.
"Haa… ha. So you’re saying you’ll help me?"
"Yes."
"I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for pleasantries, so I’ll ask directly."
"I promise to answer with all sincerity."
One short breath. Then the words that followed pierced straight through Kim Tae-min and Ji Hyo-rin’s hearts.
"After the organ donation is over… what happens to my daughter?"
"......"
"You just yank out the organs and then what? Call a separate ambulance?"
"......"
"Tell me. No—please tell me. After this noble sacrifice is complete, what happens to my daughter?"
Kim Tae-min’s lips began to tremble. It was something that should never have happened. But because it had happened before, it was an even more painful scar from his past.