Prologue
The sound caught in Taehyung’s throat, a raw, desperate plea. “Appaaaaaa… Ommaaaaa…” He shook their bodies, small limbs wrapped tight around them, the frantic rhythm mirroring the chaos in his chest. “Answer me. Someone answer me.” He turned to his grandmother, voice cracking, “Grandma, ask them to speak. Please, tell them to respond.”
The accident had claimed his parents twelve hours before. Laborers on a construction site, they’d been caught in a catastrophic collapse. The police had recovered their bodies, a sliver of hope clinging to the possibility of survivors, a hope that withered with each passing hour. Taehyung, barely eleven, was left adrift.
He clung to his mother and father, shaking them as if willing them back to life. The cold, unyielding silence was a crushing weight. His grandmother, her face etched with grief, could only offer the hollow comfort of her embrace. She knew her touch was insufficient, a meager offering against the tidal wave of his sorrow.
“I am here, my baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I am here. You have me. You have me.” She held him, pressing her worn hands against his back, her own tears mingling with his. The weight of his grief threatened to pull her under, but she held firm, a silent promise to carry him through the darkness. The echo of his loss reverberated in her heart.