The apartment was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the wall clock. Morning sun seeped in through the tall windows, golden light dusting over the marbled floors and expensive furniture like a lie—trying to paint something beautiful over what was already broken.
Yume stood before the mirror, fastening the delicate strap of her dress. A soft pastel pink, modest, nothing flashy. Her fingers trembled slightly, the bruise near her collarbone barely hidden beneath the neckline. She fixed her hair in place, dabbing a bit of concealer under her eyes.
She had to look okay. Normal.
She needed to be okay. At least for today.
As she reached for her handbag, a sharp voice cut through the quiet like a blade.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Her hand froze mid-air.
She turned slowly.
Felix stood by the bedroom door, shirt unbuttoned halfway, a drink already in hand despite the early hour. His eyes narrowed—calculating, possessive.
Yume offered a small, rehearsed smile. "I have an audition tomorrow, so I thought I should—"
"I. Asked. Where. Are. You. Going."
Each word was a slap. She flinched despite herself.
"I… the shopping mall. Just for a bit." Her voice was low, almost guilty.
Felix raised an eyebrow. He stepped closer. "Wait. I'm coming with you."
"You don't have to. It's just—"
"I said I'm coming." He didn't shout, but his tone sliced through her attempt at protest. Cold. Final.
She fell silent.
He tossed the glass aside, barely missing the side table, and motioned toward the door.
"Let's go."
---
The mall was busy—people walking past in flashes of color and perfume. Children tugging at mothers' hands. Lovers giggling under dim, fancy lights. It should've felt comforting. Safe.
It didn't.
Yume moved mechanically—taking makeup from shelves, fingering the fabric of a pale silk scarf. She picked up a few essentials, tried on earrings she didn't need. Just distractions. It was hard to breathe.
But then she saw it.
Tucked inside a glass cabinet display: a delicate rabbit doll, no bigger than her palm, carved entirely from crystal-clear glass. Its ears were upright, and a soft sheen shimmered across its transparent body.
She paused, mesmerized. It reminded her of her childhood—the one before all this.
She opened the glass case carefully and lifted it with both hands, admiring the way light danced through it like a dream she once had and lost.
Then—
A sudden thud.
A small child, running wildly, crashed into her.
"Ah—!"
Yume stumbled. Her fingers slipped.
The glass rabbit fell.
Shatter.
The sound was loud. Piercing. Like her heart cracking in public.
"Oh my god…" she whispered, frozen.
The child was gone—vanished into the crowd.
And then came the voices.
A staff member stormed over. "What have you done?! That piece was imported from Italy! You think you can just drop it and walk away?!"
"I—I didn't mean—"
"What's this ruckus?" Another voice barked, deeper and impatient.
The store manager.
He took one look at her, scoffed, and smirked. "Oh my, Aren't you that slutty model from those perfume ads? Thought you were richer than this."
Yume's jaw dropped, shocked silent.
Before she could reply, Felix stepped into the scene.
His arm looped around her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said smoothly. "She didn't mean to cause trouble. I'll pay for the damages."
"Oh, how sweet." The manager sneered. "So you're the one she's riding these days?"
Yume's eyes widened. "Excuse me—"
"That's enough," she snapped. Her voice shook. "Mind your language."
But before she could say another word—a sharp slap cracked across her cheek.
Time stopped.
Her head jerked sideways, hair falling across her eyes. The sting bloomed instantly across her skin.
But it wasn't the pain that stunned her—it was the humiliation. The shock. The looks from strangers. The heat rushing to her cheeks. The way everyone watched and no one moved.
"You useless bitch," Felix hissed. "Always ruining everything. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
Yume stood frozen. Her mouth parted. But no sound came.
Not even when he grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the store, through the crowd, away from the shattered glass rabbit… and the pieces of her pride.
---
Later that night.
The apartment was colder now.
Yume sat curled on the edge of the couch, wrapped in a blanket like it was armor. The slap still burned. Not just on her cheek—but deeper. Deeper.
She didn't cry.
She couldn't.
Her eyes just stared—empty, hollow—at the muted television screen, where some cheesy rom-com flickered.
Felix emerged from the bedroom, buttoning up his coat.
"Don't wait," he said. "I'm not coming home tonight."
She didn't reply.
Didn't even blink.
That irritated him, she could tell—but for once, he didn't yell. He just muttered a curse and slammed the door behind him.
Silence dropped like a curtain.
Yume looked around. The apartment was sterile, expensive, lifeless.
Then her gaze landed on the photo frame hanging by the shelf. Their wedding day.
She stared.
Felix's hand on her waist.
Her smile—forced. Eyes dull even back then.
She looked like a ghost dressed in white.
A bitter laugh crawled up her throat.
"Why did I say yes?" she whispered. "Was it really just to please father? Did I think it would… change?"
She turned her head.
Changed the channel.
The news blared suddenly into the quiet.
"Breaking: Local shopping mall on XXXXX street engulfed in flames late this evening. Firefighters are still attempting to control the blaze. The cause remains unknown. The mall manager is reportedly missing—last seen earlier today…"
Yume's heart skipped.
She leaned forward.
The flames on the screen roared.
That mall.
The one they had gone to.
She swallowed hard. "That's…"
Her voice trailed off.
The blanket slipped off her shoulders.
She stared.
And the flames on screen flickered.
Like a warning.
Or a message.