The next day, Nara sat in front of her laptop from early morning, tracking down every digital trace she could find about Kang Ji-han.
She deliberately didn't ask Raka for help. It wasn't because she didn't trust him, but because she wanted to meet Ji-han on her own terms, without anyone acting as an intermediary and without the shadow of the Han family's involvement potentially influencing the man's reaction.
Morning sunlight streamed through the apartment windows, falling across her laptop screen, which was filled with dozens of search tabs.
She had tried every combination of keywords she could think of: Ji-han's full name, his father's name, and the name of a foundation that might be connected to the accident.
Every search result brought her closer to a picture of a man who had spent half his life trying to turn his personal tragedy into something meaningful for others.
After nearly two hours of searching, she found a simple website belonging to a nonprofit organization called the Wijaya Peduli Foundation, established ten years ago with a mission to advocate for stricter workplace safety standards across various industries.
Kang Ji-han was listed as one of its founders and its executive director.
On the “Upcoming Events” page, Nara found an announcement for a public seminar taking place three days from now about workplace safety policy reform in the manufacturing sector.
Kang Ji-han was listed as one of the keynote speakers.
Nara's heart began pounding as she read the announcement.
This was the opportunity she'd been looking for—a way to meet Ji-han in person, in a public place, without having to reveal who she really was if the time wasn't right yet.
Her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. Sena's name appeared on the screen.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Sena's voice sounded as cheerful as ever when Nara answered the call.
“Just looking up some information for work,” Nara replied, choosing not to tell her about the search she was really conducting.
Something inside her told her to be careful, even though she didn't fully understand why.
“Oh, right. How are things with you and Raka? You've been married for over a month now. Still all lovey-dovey like newlyweds?” Sena let out a soft laugh on the other end of the line.
“We're doing fine,” Nara answered briefly, even though the words felt far from completely honest.
“Oh, by the way,” Sena continued, her voice dropping slightly, “are you still thinking about those weird messages from back then?”
Nara fell silent for a moment. She didn't remember ever telling Sena any more details about the messages beyond what she'd shared on the morning before her wedding.
“Why are you suddenly asking about that?” Nara asked cautiously.
“It's nothing. I was just curious,” Sena answered quickly—perhaps too quickly. “You told me they really got to you back then. I just wanted to make sure you weren't still thinking about them.”
“No, I'm not,” Nara lied, though she wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to lie to her own best friend.
Their conversation continued for a few more minutes, touching on light subjects like their plans to have lunch together the following week.
But after hanging up, Nara sat in silence, trying to understand the unease that had suddenly surfaced during the conversation.
Maybe she was just being paranoid, she thought.
After everything that had happened lately, it was only natural for her to start questioning everything—even things she'd never suspected at all before.
She turned her attention back to her laptop screen and reread the details of the seminar taking place three days from now.
It would be held at a convention center downtown and was open to the public, with free registration. Without thinking too long, Nara filled out the registration form, entering only her own name, without any additional details that could connect her to the Han family.
That evening, when Raka came home from work, Nara told him about her plan.
“The seminar is open to the public,” Nara explained as she prepared dinner. “I've already registered. I want to see him for myself and hear the way he talks before deciding how I should approach him.”
Raka stared at her for a long moment, clear concern visible on his face. “Are you sure you want to do this alone?”
“I have to, Raka,” Nara replied firmly. “If you come with me, he might immediately realize who I am, and his reaction could be different from what it would otherwise be. I want him to see me as a stranger first, not as the wife of the family responsible for her father's death.”
Raka finally nodded, though the doubt in his eyes was still unmistakable. “All right. But be careful, Nara. We still don't know for sure what all those messages mean, and I don't want you facing this alone without any preparation.”
Nara gave him a faint smile, trying to reassure both her husband and herself. “I'll be fine.”
Yet deep in her heart, a new question had begun to emerge, replacing some of the unease about Ji-han that had haunted her all this time.
Why was Sena suddenly so eager to know whether Nara was still thinking about those mysterious messages?