Seo Yoon woke to a sound that didn't belong.
A crash. A shout.
Her heart skipped a beat. She bolted upright, her blanket sliding to the floor. Something in her gut told her this was more than just a morning argument. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran.
Downstairs, the living room was chaos.
Her parents were at the center of it. Her mother's face was flushed with anger, eyes sharp and wild. Her father stood rigid, jaw tight, trying to speak, but she couldn't hear the words over the tension humming in the air.
Then it happened.
Her mother grabbed a vase from the nearby shelf and hurled it toward him. It shattered against the wall, sending shards scattering across the floor.
Before Seo Yoon could react, her father swung another vase from the side table and smashed it onto the wooden floor. Pieces of porcelain flew, glinting in the morning light streaming through the windows.
"Stop it!" Seo Yoon screamed, her voice cracking.
For a moment, the room froze. Both parents turned toward her, but the anger didn't leave their eyes. It lingered, like a storm cloud that refused to dissipate.
Seo Yoon's stomach churned. She had never seen her parents like this—not ever. There had always been quiet tension, careful words, measured actions. But this… this was different. Fierce. Unrestrained.
She wanted to step forward, to stop them, to fix it somehow. But she couldn't move. Her legs felt rooted to the spot, her mind spinning.
And then, almost like a whisper at the back of her mind, she heard it.
A voice. Not her own.
"This always happens… You know what comes next…"
Her chest tightened. Her memories—the other eldest daughters, the warnings—flooded her senses. They hadn't spoken about family fights like this… but the unease, the violence, the fear—it was familiar.
The voice in her mind was insistent. Run. Watch. Remember.
Seo Yoon's fingers curled around her pajama sleeves. She forced herself to breathe. She forced herself to take a step forward, moving between her parents.
"Please," she said, her voice shaking. "Stop it!"
Her mother's hand shook, and her father's grip on the broken vase faltered. For a moment, the fury dimmed, replaced by something darker—something unreadable.
Seo Yoon looked down at the fragments on the floor. She felt a strange chill. It wasn't just anger she was seeing—it was a pattern, a warning, a cycle replaying itself. Every eldest daughter before her had felt it, remembered it in their own way.
And now, it was her turn to witness it.
She bent down, gathering the pieces carefully, her hands trembling slightly. The room smelled faintly of flowers and dust and tension, a smell that would stay with her forever.
"Seo Yoon…" her mother said, voice quieter now, almost afraid.
She looked up. Her parents' faces were no longer just angry—they were exhausted, worn, broken in a way that frightened her more than the fight itself.
Seo Yoon swallowed hard. She realized something she hadn't before.
No matter how perfect she tried to be… no matter how careful, how obedient, how silent… some things she couldn't control.
Some things weren't hers to fix.
But she remembered.
And remembering… was the only thing that could give her a chance.