When the Last Name Becomes a Cage

Rain slicked the street outside Jin Tower into a dark mirror. Han Seo-yeon kept her chin down and her hands still, even as her pulse hammered like it wanted out. The business card sat between her fingers like it could burn.

The paper was thick. The black crest in the corner was not just printed. It looked pressed, like someone had stamped it with pressure and intention.

She slid her thumb over the raised edge and forced herself to breathe through the sting of old memories. After her family collapse, she had built an interior-design identity from scratch. Clean contracts. Quiet clients. No photos with her face turned right.