Seo-hee stepped off the train with only one plan in mind — to visit her beloved grandfather. The crisp morning air brushed against her cheeks as she walked through the quiet station plaza, her heart light with anticipation.

But one phone call changed everything.

“Seo-hee Han, you are under arrest as a suspect in the murder of Mr. Han Jong-in.”

Her breath stopped.

Confusion turned to shock. She stared numbly at the uniformed officer before her, struggling to process the impossible words. Murder? Arrest? Nothing in her quiet life had prepared her for accusations like these.

Before she could recover from the shock, another betrayal struck — this one far closer to home.

Her husband… with her cousin.

The memory replayed in her mind: his guilty eyes, her cousin’s cruel smile, the sneer that twisted every warm memory Seo-hee had once held dear. The world around her felt unreal, like fog wrapping itself around her senses.

“From now on,” she whispered, voice trembling but sharp, “I’m going to take everything for myself. Even your share, Unnie.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, but then — silence. Darkness. And then… nothing.

When Seo-hee opened her eyes again, the sunlight streamed through tall windows, and the murmur of students echoed around her. Confusion melted into disbelief.

She wasn’t in the police station.

She was sitting in a university lecture hall.

And it couldn’t be — could it?

But as the realization blossomed in her chest, her heart thudded with a mixture of dread and determination.

She was… ten years in the past.

Before betrayal. Before loss. Before everything that had brought her to ruin.

Her eyes fell on a familiar figure — her cousin, speaking loudly and dismissively to classmates, exactly as she had in the memories Seo-hee had tried to bury.

Seo-hee’s jaw tightened.

No longer would she be a victim.

No longer would she let others decide her fate.

This time… she would rewrite her life.

And first, she decided, she would cut out the man who had once called himself her husband Her heart thudded.

This is real — I really went back.

She pulled the sleeve of her sweater taut around her wrist, as if anchoring herself to the moment. Around her, classmates murmured and flipped pages of notebooks, unaware of the storm inside her head.

Just then, a soft tap on her shoulder startled her.

“Hey, Seo-hee,” said a familiar voice, warm with genuine cheer. She turned — and saw Ji-hyun, her friend from the past, whose smile radiated friendliness and trust.

“Morning,” Ji-hyun said, sliding into the seat beside her. “You look tired. Didn’t sleep well?”

Seo-hee forced a smile. Don’t blow it. Just act normal. “Yeah… couldn’t sleep,” she said quietly.

Ji-hyun nodded, concerned. “You okay? You seem… off.”

Before Seo-hee could answer, the classroom door clicked open and Professor Lee stepped in, his presence immediately bringing the room to attention.

“Good morning,” he said, voice calm but firm. “Today, we’ll start with introductions. I want each of you to say your name and one thing you want to accomplish this semester.”

Seo-hee’s pulse spiked. Speak. Stay calm.

When her turn finally came, she stood, took a breath, and said with surprising confidence, “I’m Seo-hee Han. This semester, I want to live without regrets.”

There was a moment of curious silence, followed by polite applause from her classmates. Ji-hyun gave her an encouraging smile.

That wasn’t so hard.

But as the professor began his lecture, and Seo-hee let her gaze wander across the room, her eyes landed on someone she wasn’t expecting — a tall young man with dark hair and calm, intelligent eyes, seated a few rows ahead.

He didn’t look at her. His attention was fixed on the lecture.

Yet something about him resonated deep in her memory — a sense of familiarity not tied to her painful past.

Seo-hee’s breath caught.

Was this who she would meet again in this new life?

Questions buzzed in her mind:

Would he be someone who could change her fate… or someone she had overlooked before?

The lecture continued, but Seo-hee’s heart was already elsewhere — caught between the life she had lost and the new one she now had the power to shape.

Seo-hee blinked, her senses struggling to catch up with the reality before her. The early morning sun slanted through tall windows, casting soft light across the rows of desks. The lecture hall was familiar — the same one she had fallen asleep in a moment ago, the same one she had known ten years ago.

The lecture finally ended, but Seo-hee remained seated for a moment, fingers resting lightly on her notebook. Her thoughts were racing faster than she could organize them.

Ten years ago… this was where everything still looked normal.

Students began packing their bags, chairs scraping softly against the floor. Laughter and casual chatter filled the room — sounds that once felt ordinary, but now carried a strange weight.

“Seo-hee?” Ji-hyun leaned closer. “You’re really zoning out today. Wanna grab coffee?”

Seo-hee hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”

As they walked out of the lecture hall together, Seo-hee’s eyes drifted again — to him. The tall man from earlier stood near the exit, slinging his bag over one shoulder. For a brief second, his gaze met hers.

It wasn’t intense.

It wasn’t flirtatious.

Just calm. Observant.

Then he looked away, as if nothing had happened, and disappeared into the crowd.

Seo-hee’s chest tightened.

Why does he feel important?

The campus café smelled of roasted beans and warm pastries. Sunlight poured through the glass windows, illuminating floating dust in the air. Ji-hyun chatted happily while stirring her drink, but Seo-hee only half-listened.

“You know,” Ji-hyun said casually, “I heard your cousin transferred here this semester.”

Seo-hee’s hand froze around her cup.

Her cousin.

The woman who would one day steal her husband, smile sweetly while ruining her life, and testify against her without hesitation.

“Oh?” Seo-hee replied calmly, though her pulse quickened. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. She’s in the business department. People say she’s really charming.”

Seo-hee lowered her gaze, lips curving slightly.

Of course they do.

She took a slow sip of coffee, grounding herself.

This time will be different.

No blind trust.

No self-sacrifice.

No pretending not to see the warning signs.

After they parted ways, Seo-hee walked alone across campus. Every step felt deliberate, as if she were reclaiming pieces of herself scattered across time.

She stopped in front of a bulletin board filled with flyers — internships, competitions, study groups.

Her eyes locked onto one notice.

“International Student Exchange Program — Applications Open.”

Her breath caught.

In her previous life, she had ignored this opportunity. She had stayed behind for someone else’s convenience. For a future that never came.

Seo-hee reached out and tore off an application slip.

“This time,” she whispered, “I choose myself.”

As she turned to leave, a familiar voice spoke behind her.

“You’re applying too?”

She turned.

It was him — the man from the lecture hall.

Up close, his expression was gentle but unreadable, eyes sharp with quiet intelligence.

“Yes,” she answered, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I am.”

He smiled faintly. “Good choice.”

For the first time since waking up in the past, Seo-hee felt something unexpected bloom in her chest.

Not fear.

Not anger.

But possibility.