The secrets we keep| 2min

chapter 3

He looked back at Hyunjin, who was watching him with a knowing glint in his eye. Hyunjin smiled, his lips curling up in a gentle, enigmatic smile. Dr. Kim felt like Hyunjin was seeing into his very soul. He felt a flush rise to his cheeks as he tried to compose himself. "Let's go and meet the other patients," Hwan hee said, her voice gentle, yet firm, breaking the spell that had held Dr. Kim captive.

"O-okay," Dr. Kim stuttered, his eyes still fixed on the painting as if reluctant to leave it behind.

As Dr. Kim walked down the hallway, a single thought kept racing through his mind: Is this even possible? The idea that Hyunjin could see into the future and the past seemed utterly ridiculous. This must be some kind of prank, he thought, trying to rationalize the situation. But the uncertainty gnawed at him, making each step feel heavier.

They reached a large, dimly lit hall where the patients waited in silence. The room was expansive, yet the emptiness amplified its eerie atmosphere. Rows of simple chairs filled the space, all facing a single table and chair set apart at the front—a place reserved for him. Despite the minimalist setup, the hall had an odd grandeur to it. Lamps hung from the ceiling, casting warm, flickering light, and the floor was covered in plush red carpets, their vibrant hue contrasting with the muted walls.

Dr. Kim's gaze swept over the room before he walked to the chair and sat down, trying to steady his nerves. The first patient was already approaching. It was the same girl he had encountered in the hallway earlier—her presence now felt almost inevitable, as if this moment had been waiting for him all along.

He cleared his throat, forcing a calm demeanor. "I’m going to ask you a few questions," he began, his voice steady but betraying a hint of underlying tension. "Please answer them honestly."

The girl’s eyes were wide, filled with something that Dr. Kim couldn’t quite place—fear? Confusion? Or perhaps a knowingness that unsettled him even more.

"Are you facing any difficulties here?" Dr. Kim asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes searching hers for any sign of truth.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing in from all sides as he waited for her response.

"No,” the girl replied, her expression utterly devoid of emotion. Dr. Kim noted her response in his notebook, his pen scratching softly against the paper. After a brief pause, he looked up and asked, “Do you feel threatened? Or any sense of danger?”

The girl hesitated, her eyes briefly flickering with something dark before she spoke again, this time in a voice that had dropped to a whisper. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking onto Dr. Kim’s. “I don’t,” she said, her voice chillingly calm. “But I can’t say the same for you. I’ve seen many people die… including the doctors who were here before you.”

The intensity in her eyes sent an involuntary shudder down Dr. Kim’s spine. There was something unnervingly certain in her words, something that made the small examination room feel colder, as if the air had been sucked out.

Hwan Hee, who had been silently observing from beside Dr. Kim, cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I’m sorry, doctor,” she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. “She’s been through a lot of trauma. She… she watched half of her family get killed right in front of her.”

Dr. Kim nodded slowly, his gaze still lingering on the girl. He could see the traces of deep-seated fear and pain behind her stoic demeanor, masked by a facade of indifference. “What’s your name?” he asked gently, his tone softening.

“Yeji,” she replied, her voice barely audible now.

Dr. Kim hummed in acknowledgment and scribbled her name down in his notebook. He glanced back at Hwan Hee, who gave him a small, reassuring nod. “Next patient,” Dr. Kim murmured, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that had settled in his chest.