PTT - 21

It was past one in the morning when Raon finally stepped into the house. She pressed the door lock as quietly as possible, and the dark interior greeted her. The heater had been left in “away” mode, leaving the house cold and devoid of warmth.

Her grandmother often refused to keep the heating on all day, claiming it was a waste of gas despite being told that it was fine to do so even in cold weather. A lifetime of frugality and hard work had shaped her habits.

Raon understood her grandmother’s ways but wished she could be a little more selfish. Instead of sacrificing everything for her granddaughter—who wasn’t even blood-related—she hoped her grandmother would live life more comfortably for herself. But life rarely went according to plan.

“Is she asleep?”

After taking off her shoes, Raon stood before the tightly shut bedroom door. After a brief moment of hesitation, she flicked on the living room light switch. The daylight-like illumination came on after a short delay, casting its glow over the modest space.

She placed her phone and bag on the old sofa that had seen more than ten years of use, then cautiously made her way toward the bedroom, careful not to make any noise. It was late, so surely her grandmother would already be asleep.

Worried about waking her light-sleeping grandmother, Raon turned the doorknob gently. She opened the door just a crack to peek inside—but her expression froze instantly.

“…Grandma?”

The hand gripping the doorknob tightened. Pushing the door open fully, Raon entered the room and scanned the surroundings.

The small five-pyeong bedroom held only a neatly folded futon and a wardrobe. But there was no sign of her grandmother anywhere. If she had gone to the bathroom or was awake, she would have responded to Raon’s arrival by now.

Goosebumps prickled up her arms.

With trembling eyes, Raon stared at the perfectly folded blanket and began searching every corner of the house. The entire apartment consisted of two rooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a single bathroom—hardly enough space to take long. Yet, no matter where she looked, her grandmother was nowhere to be found.

“Where did you go? This is driving me crazy…”

Anxious, Raon picked up her phone from the sofa. She had bitten her lower lip so much that she could taste the faint metallic tang of blood. Scrolling through messages and call logs yielded nothing helpful.

[Grandma: Where is the flower plate I used to put under the plant pot?] 

[Raon: Check the white cabinet in the fridge, bottom shelf. Not the top. If it’s hard to find, call me right away.] 

[Grandma: Thank you, my sweet granddaughter.]

That was the last exchange they’d had at 2:40 PM, before Raon left for the club. Nothing unusual about their conversation—it was typical of their daily interactions. It was far too late to contact Grandma’s caregiver, who usually helped look after her during the day.

“For now, I’ll search myself…”

Though Raon prided herself on maintaining a calm and professional demeanor in official missions, emotions always got the better of her when it came to her grandmother.

“I need to stay calm,” she muttered to herself like a mantra. Slipping on her sneakers haphazardly, she opened the front door and stepped outside.

The air against her cheeks was icy. Every second counted; she needed to find her grandmother quickly. An indescribable sense of dread surged within her, threatening to burst her heart.

---

“Haa…”

Her breath caught sharply in her throat. Running as fast as she had while chasing Cheonsung-won earlier, Raon scoured the apartment complex grounds. But there was still no trace of her grandmother.

At this late hour, very few people were out and about. Watching a delivery rider dismount from his motorcycle, Raon rubbed her face wearily with both hands.

Under the dim glow of the streetlights, she circled the complex for the third time. With each passing minute, her anxiety grew unbearable.

Her palms were slick with cold sweat. She had called her grandmother’s number over ten times, yet each attempt ended with an automated message stating the line was unreachable.

“Where are you… Please…”

Her grandmother, a woman in her seventies suffering from dementia, couldn’t possibly have wandered far. Should she call the police? As Raon hesitated, scrolling through emergency contacts, her gaze shifted to the neighboring apartment building.

Knowing her grandmother’s limited range of movement, Raon shoved her phone into her pocket and started running again.

Sometimes, the most unlikely possibilities turn out to be true.

There, beneath a flickering playground lamppost whose bulb was nearing the end of its lifespan, sat Raon’s grandmother. The elderly figure perched on the swing, staring blankly at the sandy ground, was unmistakably Grandma Soon-ae.

Fighting back a surge of emotion, Raon hurried toward her. Each step closer felt like needles piercing her heart.

Finally standing before the person she had searched so desperately for, Raon’s trembling voice broke the silence.

“…What are you doing here, Grandma?”

“Oh… my granddaughter. I’m sorry for making you come all the way here. Aren’t you cold? Look how frozen your hands are. What should I do?”

“…Why are you here?! Do you know what time it is? Why did you come out alone and make me worry so much?!”

Unable to contain the flood of emotions welling up inside her, Raon snapped.

Why was she out in this freezing weather? What was she doing at the playground of a neighboring apartment complex ten minutes away? Why hadn’t she answered her phone? And why was she acting like Raon was the one who needed comforting?

A torrent of complex, unnameable emotions overwhelmed her, breaking through the dam she had tried so hard to maintain.

As an adult, Raon had never once raised her voice at her grandmother. She knew she shouldn’t lose her temper, but calming down felt impossible.

Tears pooled in the corners of her narrowed eyes. Clutching Raon’s hands tightly, Soon-ae sighed deeply.

“I’m sorry, Raon-ah… My chest felt heavy, so I thought I’d take a walk. But then I couldn’t remember the way back home. And I couldn’t find my phone either… Lately, I’ve been forgetting things more and more.”

“Please… don’t scare me like this. Grandma, please… I’m begging you.”

She couldn’t cry in front of her grandmother. Swallowing her tears with great effort, Raon removed her coat. A tangled mess of sorrow and self-reproach weighed heavily on her shoulders like a stone.

If only she had returned home sooner. If only she had called her grandmother before leaving work. But those thoughts were futile—they were merely assumptions about an irreversible past.

As Raon dressed her grandmother, she bit down hard on the tender flesh inside her lip. How long had Grandma been sitting alone on the swing in this freezing cold night?

To Raon, dementia was the cruelest disease of all. Her heart throbbed as if it had been brutally slashed.

Swallowing tears repeatedly, Raon gripped her grandmother’s hand tightly.

“Let’s go home. Your hands are so cold.”

“I’m so sorry, my child. You must have been so worried after working all day and coming back to find me gone.”

“...No, I should’ve come back sooner.”

The whispered apology stung. This woman, who wasn’t even her blood relative, had raised her with such care and devotion. Despite fulfilling her duties as an agent of the National Intelligence Service, Raon couldn’t help but feel like she had failed in her role as a granddaughter.

Finally reassured, Soon-ae smiled warmly at Raon, but her gaze dropped to their clasped hands. She stared at the scarred back of Raon’s right hand—the mark that still lingered from years ago—and sighed deeply.

“Do you still go to that dermatology clinic? Whenever I think about how that girl ruined your beautiful hands... Oh, it breaks my heart.”

“...It’s fine. That’s all in the past. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I didn’t protect you… When I think about that time, my heart aches. I wanted to raise you well, better than anyone else.”

Even now, on rainy days, Raon’s right hand would throb painfully. The merciless beating with a golf club had shattered the bones, leaving scars that never fully faded. Though the bones had healed over six months, the dent on the back of her hand remained—a permanent tattoo etched into her skin for life.

“...Please don’t say that, Grandma. I grew up just fine, without anything to envy others for.”

On impulse, Raon squeezed her grandmother’s wrinkled hand tightly. When had she grown so old? As they walked side by side toward home, Raon thought about how quickly time had passed.

She silently vowed to be a better granddaughter from now on, to never leave her grandmother feeling lonely again.

So lost was she in these thoughts that she didn’t notice the faint vibrations of her phone tucked away in her back pocket. Yoo Raon made a deep, unspoken promise—to cherish what little time they had left together.