Chapter 20.2

Chapter 20.2

Wasn’t my plan from the start to simply get what I wanted? If it failed this time, I could just try again later. Until then, I only needed to keep melting him with a sweet face and a gentle tone.

So I shouldn’t have been feeling like this now. My mouth shouldn’t have tasted bitter, like I was holding licorice under my tongue.

We are not equal. You are not on the same line as me.

My heart pounded in an uneven, unpleasant rhythm. My breath came tight and shallow. I couldn’t tell if the heat at my eyes was from tears or anger.

When I said nothing, Deputy Ki checked his wristwatch and let out a low sigh. Then he opened the door and waited for me to leave.

Dragging my white prison slippers, I walked past him through the open doorway.

Without a word, I walked down the dim, shabby corridor toward the cell. I could feel his eyes on me several times along the way, but I didn’t open my mouth. It wasn’t until I turned the corner and saw the familiar iron door at the end of the hall that I finally spoke.

“You told me I was a person.”

“……”

“You said this was a place where people live, and that inmate 7059 is also a person. You said that yourself.”

As I walked down the gray corridor, I dug into the tangled mess of emotions twisting inside me, peeling them back layer by layer. At the very bottom, I found something that had been there all along. That vague, uneasy feeling I’d always had about Deputy Ki.

“But in the end, Deputy Ki, you still see me as a criminal before a person, don’t you?”

Doctor Ahn had called me a criminal too, but he still treated me like a human being. That was why he broke his own rules just to sneak me a cigarette, even when he got nothing in return.

Deputy Ki, on the other hand, called me human but looked at me like a sinner first. He placed limits and rules on the woman who said she liked him, even if that love was a lie. Because to him, that woman wasn’t his equal. Not the same kind of person.

So I guess what I felt was a kind of betrayal. He said one thing, but his actions said another.

Pathetic, isn’t it? I know. I don’t have the right to say any of this. Especially when I was the one who lied about liking him just to use him.

But think about it. In this prison, I was the weak one. He was the strong one. I was the prey, and he was the predator. In that kind of relationship, the prey’s hypocrisy is a means of survival, but the predator’s hypocrisy is deceit, plain and simple.

He shouldn’t have said all that about being human if he didn’t mean it.

Deputy Ki said nothing in return. I didn’t expect him to.

When we finally reached the barred door at the end of the long hallway, he hesitated for a moment.

I stared at the lock, silently urging him to hurry up and open it. He pulled the key from his belt, turned it in the lock, and pushed the door open.

As the metal door yawned wide, I started to step through, but a familiar grip caught my fingers. His hot hand wrapped tightly around mine, from my middle finger to my pinky. I glanced down at it, then lightly shook him off. The door closed slower than usual.

After a short pause, the sound of his footsteps echoed down the corridor, fading with each step. Only when they were gone did I slip off my shoes and step onto the yellow linoleum inside the cell.

The lights, as always, stayed on through the night. A row of women lay asleep on the navy blankets spread out on the floor. The only sound breaking the stillness was Wangnyeo’s loud, rhythmic snoring.

This isn’t where I belong. What did I do wrong to end up here… I’m not a criminal like he said. I’m not like them. I’m different…

The cell was dry, and a faint draft made the air chill. I pulled the rough blanket up to my shoulders and turned on my side, facing the smelly waste bucket. There had been so many freshly washed blankets stacked in the storage room. Where did they all go? The one I had smelled stale, like old dust and sweat.

“…D/1m.n it.”

The thought of the storage room brought the memories flooding back.

D!m.n it. Seriously, d.1m*n it. I muttered the curse again and again, though it never seemed to sit right on my tongue, and shut my eyes. It really was a wretched, unlucky day.