It is November 3rd, 2024.

The story begins—exactly five years ago in 2019, on this very day.

“Hi, Sissi. We’re finally boarding.”

I trudged forward, breathless and sluggish, with not a shred of excitement in me.

A brutal 12 + 14 hours of back-to-back flights had flattened me in the hotel for three days, and even now, my body hadn’t bounced back. I moved like a turtle, inching my way toward the dock.

This trip was a gift to myself—a reward after years of starting and running my own business.

Five years of nonstop hustle, flying 100 to 200 days a year, had left my body and soul utterly depleted.

The real appeal of Antarctica wasn’t the scenery—it was the promise of “21 days without signal.”

No clients. No staff.

Just peace.

And sleep. So much sleep.

That day marked the maiden voyage of the ship. Destination: Antarctica.

Despite five years of dreaming, when I finally stepped aboard, I felt... nothing. Or maybe, just exhaustion.

We were required to attend a safety briefing. I’ve never liked crowds, never cared for group anything.

While everyone else grabbed chairs, I made a beeline for the window, climbed onto the sill, and let my short legs swing freely in the corner, happily out of place.

Since my friend didn’t understand English, I was volunteered to listen in on her behalf.

At the time, I was heavy—146 jin, or roughly 160 pounds. Even breathing felt like a chore.

As the speaker’s voice blurred into background noise, I felt it—

a pair of eyes watching me.

“Seriously? I look like this, and someone’s watching?”