The market streets were crowded, but to Hana they felt empty.
Her sketch of the man's face burned in her hand, the missing button etched clearly on the jacket she had drawn. She had seen him. The man who didn't belong. The man who had brushed past her window that night.
And now—he was here.
Hana's feet carried her forward before her mind caught up. She moved through the throng of people, clutching her teddy so tightly its ear bent back. She stayed low, weaving between legs, always keeping the man's dark jacket in sight.
He walked with an easy swagger, one hand in his pocket, the other swinging a plastic bag of fish. He greeted no one, spoke to no one. His eyes flicked constantly, restless, scanning.
Her chest tightened. He was watching the world the way a wolf watched a flock.
The crowd thinned as he turned down a quieter street. Hana hesitated. Every part of her screamed to turn back. But she thought of her father—alone in a cold cell, confused, afraid, still believing he'd come home soon.
She followed.
The man stopped at a cigarette stall, lighting one before continuing. Hana ducked behind a pole, her heart hammering in her throat.
For a moment, she thought she was safe.
Then his head turned.
Their eyes met.
Hana froze. The cigarette smoke curled around his scarred cheek as his gaze locked on her. His expression didn't change at first. Then one eyebrow arched, slow and sharp.
He started walking toward her.
Hana's legs refused to move. Her fingers dug into the teddy, nails biting through the fabric. Her lungs screamed for air, but her chest felt caged.
The man stopped just a few feet away. He bent down slightly, cigarette hanging from his lips, eyes narrowing as he studied her.
"You lost, kid?" His voice was low, rough, like gravel.
Hana's throat burned. The words screamed inside her head—You killed her. You hurt my father. I saw you! But her lips stayed sealed. No sound came.
The man tilted his head. His eyes flicked to the teddy bear in her arms, lingering a moment too long. Hana instinctively hugged it tighter.
A slow smile spread across his face. Not warm. Not kind. A smile like a knife sliding free of its sheath.
"Cute toy," he muttered. "Better hold onto it tight."
Then he straightened, exhaling smoke, and walked away.
Hana's knees buckled. She sank against the pole, clutching the teddy so hard she thought it might rip. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.
She had looked into the eyes of the man who had ruined everything. And now he had seen her.
That night, she couldn't sleep. Every creak of the house made her flinch. Every shadow stretched too long. She lay in bed with the teddy pressed against her chest, whispering words only she could hear: Don't let him find me. Don't let him hurt Daddy. Don't let him know.
But deep inside, she knew the truth.
He had seen her. He had noticed the teddy.
And wolves didn't forget their prey
The next morning, Hana slammed her sketch of the man's face on Mr. Choi's desk. Her hands shook as she added the missing button again, circling it over and over until the paper tore.
Mr. Choi leaned forward, frowning. "Hana… where did you see him?"
She pointed toward the market on the map pinned to his wall. Her eyes were wild with urgency.
"You followed him?" His voice rose in alarm. "Hana, that was reckless! He could have—" He stopped, seeing the terror still etched on her face. He softened his tone. "Did he see you?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Mr. Choi cursed under his breath. He rubbed his forehead, pacing. "If he saw you, we don't have much time. If he realizes you can link him to the crime…" He trailed off, glancing at the teddy bear on the table.
His expression hardened. "We need proof. Solid proof. Not just drawings, not just memories. Something we can take to court."
Hana hugged her teddy, rocking slightly. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe the law would protect her father. But the scarred man's smile haunted her.
Proof alone wouldn't be enough.
Because wolves could do more than kill. They could silence.
And she was already silent