INK and IVORY

Dr. Go-Youn's fingers paused on the folder, her gaze sharp in the dim light. The air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the ticking of the clock.

"You've been... a challenging case," she said, tone measured. "I've reviewed your records. Professor Lee mentioned you don't speak much during sessions."

The man sat still, head lowered, bangs casting shadows over his face. His hands were shackled to the cold metal arms of the chair, yet he showed no resistance. His silence was deliberate, oppressive.

Dr. Go-Youn took a deep breath and tried a new approach, one Professor Lee had suggested. "Would you like to talk about Yeongyang Island? I hear you're fond of the beach there."

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, the man laughed-a low, chilling sound that echoed unnervingly off the walls, unsettling for someone so still. The laughter stopped abruptly, as if severed. Slowly, he raised his head, eyes locking onto hers.

"He told you to ask that, didn't he?" he said, voice smooth but darker.

Dr. Go-Youn held his gaze, refusing to be rattled. "At least it's made you start talking," she replied, her voice steady.

A thin smile curled his lips. "Talking? That's what you think this is?" He leaned forward, chains clinking. "I'll tell you about Yeongyang Island. But answer me this: if I told you more, would it change your opinion of me?"

Her pulse quickened though her expression stayed calm. "Why? Do you think knowing more will change how I see you?"

His smile faded. "No, that's not the issue." His voice dropped, words laced with tension. "I'm not sure I remember which one is real."

Her breath caught, but he wasn't finished.

"You want the truth?" he whispered, eyes unreadable. "I wonder... which version of me would you like best?"