They had bought Yoojin's favorite food on the way. When they arrived at her house, they knocked on the door, but no one answered. Bahora decided to open it. The door was unlocked. As she entered, she found Yoojin lying unconscious on the floor, with several letters in her hand.
Asilzoda picked her up and gently laid her on the sofa. Yoojin didn't look well—her face was pale and she had clearly lost weight.
Bahora:
What do you think happened to her?
Asilzoda:
I think it's because of what happened at the company. She looks like she's in shock. I'll prepare something for her—stay with her and keep an eye on her.
Bahora:
Okay. But… what if she doesn't wake up?
Asilzoda:
Don't say that. She'll be okay. Take this wet towel and place it on her forehead.
Bahora took the wet towel and gently placed it on Yoojin's forehead while Asilzoda went to the kitchen. After about 30 minutes, Yoojin regained consciousness.
Yoojin:
Wha… What happened to me?
Bahora:
Yoojin, you're awake! Asilzoda, Yoojin woke up! Come here!
Asilzoda:
Don't shout.
Yoojin:
Girls, what are you doing here? Why are you in my house?
Bahora:
You hadn't come to work in a while and weren't answering any calls. We were worried. When we came, your door was open and you were lying on the floor. We were really scared. Are you feeling okay now?
Yoojin clenched her teeth, trying not to cry—but then she started crying.
Yoojin:
Why would anyone be worried about someone like me?
Bahora:
Isn't it obvious? We're your colleagues, your friends.
Yoojin:
How can someone like you call someone like me a friend? My dad was a drunk, and my mom… was a prostitute. And yet you still call me your friend?
Asilzoda:
We don't care who your parents were.
Yoojin:
Hahaha… I've heard that before.
They all said that. Then they used me and abandoned me.
Bahora:
I understand you… But you're not like your parents.
Yoojin:
How could you understand me? How can you say it so easily?
Asilzoda:
If you let us… can you tell us about yourself? So we can understand better?
Yoojin:
Sure. Let's see if you still want to call me your friend after hearing the truth.
As you already know, my father was a drunk, and my mother worked as a waitress at a night club. Because of that, everyone called her a prostitute. For as long as I can remember, there was always fighting in my home. My dad came home drunk every night, demanded money, and my mom would refuse. They would fight. After he left, my mom would yell and hit me. She blamed me for everything. She'd say if I had never been born, her life would have been better.
When my dad was home, I always hid—because he hit harder than my mom.
I lived in fear every single day. One day, my mom didn't come home. A few days later, my dad and I were told that she died in a car accident. She was gone.
My dad got worse after that. He beat me more than ever. One day, he told me I wasn't even his child—that my mom had forced him to accept me as his. A few months later, he stopped coming home too. Then we heard that he had died—drunk, and drowned.
After all of that, no one wanted to take me in. Everyone looked at me like I was a curse. When I was 8, they sent me to an orphanage. Everyone there hated me. No one wanted to play with me. Even the staff avoided me. At school, the kids called me a prostitute's daughter.
When I turned 15, a couple adopted me. They didn't have children of their own. They treated me like their own child—kind, warm, loving. They didn't care about my past.
We moved to a new city. I thought I could start a new life—but I was wrong. People still looked down on me. They wished I would just disappear. One day, a girl came to me and said she wanted to be friends. I was happy. But one day, in the bathroom, I overheard her talking to someone else. She said she only hung out with me to get help with her homework and that I embarrassed her.
I confronted them and asked why they were doing this. They said it was because I was the daughter of a prostitute and because I was ugly. Things got worse and worse. I couldn't even tell my adoptive parents because I didn't want to cause them more trouble.
I finished school and entered a prestigious university—but it was the same story there. People only approached me for their own gain. I got tired of it all. I tried to end my life. I threw myself into the river, but I didn't die. Some people saved me.
When I woke up, my adoptive parents were crying by my side. They apologized for not doing more for me. After hearing them, I decided to live—for them.
So now you tell me—how can you possibly understand me? Do you still think of me as your friend?
Bahora:
Yes, we do. And you are our friend.
Yoojin:
But you both come from good families. How can you possibly understand my pain?
Asilzoda stepped closer to Yoojin and slapped her gently.
Asilzoda:
Stop it. Pull yourself together. We didn't grow up happy either. We've had our own pain. Bahora tried to take her life a year and a half ago. She was surrounded by fake people, used for their own gain, just like you. She was hurt deeply because of her innocence. And me? I've never had a good relationship with my family. I left home after a fight and almost died in an accident. I came back from the dead.
We do understand you. We've faced similar things. So now it's time for you to get a grip on yourself.
Hearing that, Yoojin burst into tears, screaming. The girls hugged her and comforted her. After 30 minutes, Yoojin calmed down.
Yoojin:
I didn't know you and Bahora had gone through such things…
How did you stay so pure after all that?
Bahora:
Because of Asilzoda. She saved my life. She got rid of all the people who were hurting me.
By the way, Asilzoda—I've always wanted to ask but never could. The girls told me that Karim cut ties with them and was too scared to leave his house. What did you do to him?
Asilzoda:
Hmm, well… After you fell asleep that night, I went outside. He was still hanging unconscious from the tree. I dragged him to the bridge and was about to throw him into the water when he woke up. I scared the life out of him and then threw him in. As for the girls—I threatened them. I told them if they ever came near you again, I'd kill them.
That's all.
Bahora:
I knew you were scary… but I didn't know you were this scary.
Yoojin laughed after hearing that. The girls smiled, relieved to see her laugh.
Yoojin:
Asilzoda… I think you've always protected Bahora. And you've protected me a few times too.
But… who protects you?
What's your story?
Why can't you get along with your family?
The room went quiet. Bahora slowly turned to look at Asilzoda. She was silent. Then she stood up and quietly went back to the kitchen to prepare something to eat. Not because she didn't want to answer—but because she didn't know where to begin.
In this emotionally intense scene, Bahora and Asilzoda find Yoojin unconscious at her home, surrounded by letters. As she regains consciousness, Yoojin opens up about her painful past—marked by abuse, abandonment, and years of being misunderstood. She believes she is unworthy of friendship or love. However, Bahora and Asilzoda reveal their own emotional scars, proving that pain does not isolate—it connects. Through shared vulnerability, the three girls begin to rebuild trust and form a deeper bond. As the room fills with raw honesty and compassion, one question lingers in the air:
What do you think about the story of Asilzodani? Please leave your opinion, it is very important to me.