Vengeful Desires

22-

The news was inescapable, a relentless deluge no matter where Amirah turned.

"Wang Hyun-woo, heir to the prominent Wang family, has officially been pronounced dead," the solemn reporter intoned. "Nearly two years after his mysterious disappearance following the tragic death of his young son, it seems authorities have finally confirmed the worst."

Amirah's face was an impenetrable mask betraying none of the turmoil roiling just below the surface.

"This devastating revelation comes on the heels of new evidence surfacing, corroborating the family's long-held suspicions that foul play may have been involved." The anchor shuffled papers, his expression grave. "We've reached out to the correctional facility currently housing Hyun-woo's estranged wife who was imprisoned shortly after their son's death - but they have yet to issue any official statement."

The broadcast cut to footage of Madame Wang, the icy matriarch whose disdain had loomed like a perpetual specter over Amirah's life. She was crumpled in on herself, tears streaming unchecked down her face as she addressed the cameras through heaving sobs.

"I know she did this," Madame Wang choked out, the accusation slicing into Amirah like shards of jagged glass. "I don't know how. But that woman...my own daughter-in-law...she took my precious son and grandson from me! Losing his son out of heartbreak made him vulnerable!"

The anguish laced into the old woman's words reverberated through Amirah's soul. A choked scoff escaped her lips before she even realized it.

Suddenly, Seul-hee's arms were around her, murmuring soothing reassurances that Amirah could scarcely process over the roaring in her ears. As if white noise just gliding about.

"I sentenced us to this hell," she stated woodenly, staring down at her hands as they trembled minutely. "All because I was too weak to stand up to his mother."

Yun crossed the room in a few quick strides, dropping into a squat before Amirah. Her gentle features were etched with concern as she reached up to grasp her sister's hands.

"You should stay home today, just rest—"

But Amirah shook her head firmly, pulling away from Yun's touch. "I have to look over some new deals in the morning."

Extracting herself from Seul-hee's embrace, she mustered a thin approximation of a smile, the effort carving deep lines around her mouth and eyes.

"Goodnight. And guys..." Amirah's gaze landed meaningfully on Yun. "You don't have to handle me with kid gloves. I'm okay." She injected as much steely conviction into the words as she could muster. "Especially you. I'm okay."

The lie felt leaden on her tongue, like a slab of immovable granite weighing down each syllable. But Amirah refused to let even the barest tremor of weakness show through her impassive facade.

By the following morning, the mask was firmly back in place as she strode into her office, the very picture of frosty composure. Not a single hair was out of place, her movements precise and economical.

The shrill ringing of the telephone shattered the brittle silence like a pane of splintering glass.

Amirah paused for the briefest of moments before reaching for the receiver, her expression utterly inscrutable.

The line crackled with static before Mi-ok's tinny voice filtered through, unnaturally chipper. "Unnie? Did you get my letters?"

Amirah glanced at the stack of envelopes on her desk, nodding. "Yes, I did."

There was a audible exhale of relief on the other end. "Ah, that's good. Unnie...are they treating you nicely there?" There was a  worry coloring Mi-ok's words.