Chapter 22.2

Chapter 22.2

“If she was trying to do ‘that,’ why would she go there of all places?”

It didn’t make sense. Even if the blind spot is right under the lamp, that place was where guards came and went most frequently.

“Why else? I heard there’s a tunnel there where they move the dead bodies from the cells.”

“……”

“And more importantly, that woman from Room Four didn’t just die. She got shot.”

The memory of that explosion-like sound in the bathhouse flashed through my mind. So that had been a gunshot…

Eyes shook her head hard.

“Stupid, right? How did she think she’d get out of here? It’s impossible.”

It sounded almost like she was saying no one ever leaves this place alive. A strange, hollow unease washed over me, and I pushed back.

“But if she went there, doesn’t that mean someone else must have succeeded before her? I mean, if she could’ve gotten over the wall or through the corpse tunnel—”

“Unni-ya. You didn’t see it when you first came in?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Getting out isn’t the end here.”

“…What are you talking abou—”

“Casual chatting during work is prohibited.”

A sudden voice from the front cut my words clean off. I turned my head, and there he was again. As always, neat and immaculate. It was my first time seeing Deputy Ki since last night, and he carried a faint, clean scent of the outside air.

“Heup, I’m sorry, Deputy Ki.”

Eyes’ hands moved even faster.

Whether she rushed or not, Deputy Ki, standing with his hands clasped behind him, kept his gaze on me. I pretended not to notice.

I knew he was trying to catch my eyes, knew he was looking right at me, but I only moved my hands. As if stuffing these chopsticks into plastic sleeves was far more important to me than acknowledging him.

What could he do about it. I wasn’t going to look at him.

He should have walked away soon, but instead his eyes drifted over the stacks of chopsticks I had packed.

“7059, your output is significantly lower than that of the other inmates.”

“……”

“No excuse?”

“…Yes, sorry about that.”

A set of plastic sleeves came in bundles of twenty. It was simple labor, just inserting twenty chopsticks then stacking the packs in boxes. Even so, my hands were always slow.

“I’ll work very hard, day and night.”

I didn’t bother glancing at him. I just kept stuffing chopsticks and answered evenly.

“Because I’m a criminal.”

“……”

I ignored the weight of his stare resting somewhere near my nose and worked like the most diligent worker in the world. As if each movement were dripping with repentance.

Deputy Ki lingered in front of me for a moment, casting a faint shadow, then finally turned and walked away. I listened to the fading rhythm of his shoes—step by step—and steadied the resolve I had already made.

I would find another way. Not through him, not through his unknowable, unreadable heart.

—

When I stepped into the corridor before evening roll call to head for the infirmary cleaning shift, there was a correctional officer I had never seen before.

I’d seen him come in earlier today, so it wasn’t his off day.

It was obvious Deputy Ki had sensed something in my attitude. Since he had nothing to lose, he’d made a point of sending someone else. I only nodded faintly and followed the unfamiliar officer toward the infirmary.

After greeting Doctor Ahn, I began cleaning and cautiously opened my mouth.

“Um… Doctor Ahn, I want to send a letter….”

“Oh my, Yoehee. You finally feel ready to forgive your family?”

Forgive? Forgive what?

“Yes… But did I ever say something like that…?”

“You did. You said your sister… that you hated her so, so much….”

Sister? Could it be that blurry woman I vaguely remembered? Strange. In my memory, that woman was wrapped in warmth and affection.

“Did I say that?”

“I don’t know the details either. You were crying so hard and kept saying it was all because of your sister, that you hated her to death… just that sort of thing.”

I wondered what more I should ask, but soon changed direction. What mattered now wasn’t what kind of relationship Ham Yoehee had with her family.

“Yes, anyway. I want to try sending a letter… but it’s embarrassing to send it straight to my family, so I thought I’d try my cousin oppa first. The thing is, as you know, my memory has been really blurry since I came to.”

Doctor Ahn’s large eyes behind her round frames glimmered with intelligence as she listened. Encouraged, I slowly moved toward the real request.

“My oppa works at a very big agency, you know? Starlight Management… I’m sure we could find the address in a phone directory. If possible, could you maybe look up the address and send it for me?”

Doctor Ahn blinked silently for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.

“Yoehee, I’m sorry. That is absolutely impossible.”