When The Phone Rings

Chapter 2

Heeju had to enter into a thoroughly humiliating marriage contract.

There was no wedding dress, no bouquet. Only lawyers and signatures.

The bride cannot request a divorce first.Divorce is strictly forbidden during the presidential election period.

Violation of either clause would incur a penalty of 2 billion won.

As Baek Sa-eon himself had put it, Heeju was a hostage.

Like a cotton swab shoved hastily into the gaping hole left by her sister, she could never be considered an equal partner.

"Dear, there's just one thing you need to do. Stay by Candidate Baek’s side and do what you do best."

"......."

"We’re planning to officially announce that our daughter-in-law is a sign language interpreter."

Her fingertips twitched suddenly.@@@@

"That way, our family’s image will shine brighter, and it’ll help bridge the gap with the public. Not to mention the votes it’ll bring in."

It felt like drowning, her lungs filling with water, but Heeju swallowed her worn-out anger as she always did.

After all, she didn’t have the strength to shatter this suffocating aquarium she was trapped in.

"Moreover, dear, you can’t speak, and you spent your childhood in the back rooms of a nightclub."

Her mother, mid-sip of her tea, paused briefly.

"Isn’t that just perfect?"

"......."

"Having a flaw that invites sympathy is a very attractive trait for a politician."

Heeju didn’t react.

Her apathy had become second nature, a defense honed since she was nine, living as the second daughter of the Sangyeong Ilbo family. Her emotions had long since been scraped away.

She found it darkly amusing that even her misfortunes could serve as trophies for others.

"I heard your aphasia has improved significantly since childhood."

She nodded as if to say yes, though no sound escaped her. Her mother-in-law smiled as if that sufficed.

"It’s better if you can’t speak at all, don’t you think?"

"......!"

Heeju glanced sharply at her mother, but Kim Yeonhee stubbornly sipped her tea, unfazed.

Even though she was clearly recalling the time when Heeju had lost her voice, her mother acted as if it was all water under the bridge.

"A month from now, so start preparing yourself."

A month.

Just one month left.

The weight of those words settled heavily in her chest. Even after her mother-in-law left, her heart continued to pound relentlessly.

When the ache spread from her chest to her legs, she finally realized she hadn’t taken her medication.

"......!"

The familiar symptoms of being submerged, as though drowning, began creeping in again. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the moment to pass.

It’s nothing, she told herself. Just breathing.

Breathing in a tank requires a lot of effort, after all.

Just let it slide. Pretend it’s nothing.

If you don’t make it a problem, it won’t become one.

"Hey...!"

A strong hand suddenly gripped her arm.

"What the hell was that on the broadcast today?"

"......."

"You’re embarrassing me! Haven’t I told you not to do anything that gives the in-laws something to criticize?"

All she wanted was to take her medication and sleep.

She glanced at the clock, her expression vacant.

Her therapist had long ago explained that her chronic apathy and inability to speak stemmed from hwebyong, a traditional Korean term for suppressed rage.

She was the stepchild of a remarried wife.

She was a stand-in for her missing sister.

She was six years younger than her husband.

For all these reasons, she was always the easy target, the one to mock.

But then—

"―From now on, JBS Radio Channel—"

The announcer’s voice, jingles, pop songs, commercials, and even news reports started overlapping chaotically, switching between frequencies.

"......!"

Startled, Heeju tapped the panel, but it made no difference.

"―Listen carefully to my words. This is DJ Shin. Today, Blue House Spokesperson Baek Sa-eon, hostage murder, murder, murder..."

The volume seemed to grow louder, the overlapping signals forming an eerie semblance of a coherent message.

Even when she tried to turn off the radio, it wouldn’t budge.

"What is wrong with today...!"

From the station to now, everything had gone terribly wrong.

As she slapped the panel in frustration, the windshield wipers suddenly began to move erratically.

Are you kidding me? Seriously?

"―You’ve deviated from the route."

The GPS reset, blaring red warnings.

"―You’ve deviated from the route.

―You’ve deviated from the route."

The repetitive, mechanical voice sent chills down her spine.

Her face stiffened.

"What... is happening...!"

She tried pulling over, but the car was no longer under her control.

On top of that, the torrential rain obscured her view.

The wipers worked tirelessly, but the water kept coming.

The car veered, spinning on the slick road before screeching to a halt.

It skidded half a turn, and her chest slammed into the steering wheel.

"Ow..."

Clutching her sternum, she winced in pain.

Then—

Click. Click.

"......!"

The rear door lock clicked open and shut.

"I didn’t touch anything."

Her neck stiffened, her entire body freezing.

Am I... locked in?

A deafening cascade of rain slammed against the car, like a bombardment.

Panicked, she clawed at the door handle, pulling at it like a madwoman.

But everything—every button, every mechanism—had failed.

The locks wouldn’t budge, and her fists grew red as she pounded on the windows. She even hurled her frail body against the door.

"Ugh...!"

Her shoulder felt like it might break.

The confinement was suffocating.

Even the cold, lifeless house sounded better than this.

"Ah...!"

Then, as if struck by lightning, a memory from a broadcast flickered in her mind. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to recall the sign language interpretation she had done that day.