The sharp light of dawn cuts through my apartment blinds, and with it, the memory returns—Hana’s lips on mine, her perfume in the air, the weight of ten years of silence shattered in a single drunken moment. She was here. We crossed a line. And now she’s texting me about her hoodie like none of it happened. I love her. I have for a decade. But she’s my sister Yuna’s girlfriend. She’s a lesbian. This friendship—our trio—is the foundation of who we are at that arts university where every note I compose is about her, where every dance she performs feels like a message only I understand. Now, one choice will redefine everything. Do I confess not just the kiss, but the truth I’ve buried for years? Risk her trust, her relationship, her identity? Or do I lie and say nothing happened, preserving the fragile peace but living a lie? Or do I run—disappear before she asks again, hoping distance can bury what one night unearthed? My fingers hover over my phone. Her text glows: *Did I leave my hoodie?* What I type next won’t just answer her question. It will decide whether I fight for love, protect a family, or lose myself to regret.