YISO'S POV

Everything feels off.

My head is heavy, my limbs weak. I sit up, wincing as pain pulses through my head like my head is about to split open. I shut my eyes, and all I see is darkness.

When I open my eyes, I see worried eyes looking back at me.

"Are you okay, miss?" A man asks me. He looks like a janitor, with a mop in his hand.

"Where am I?" I ask him, my voice barely a whisper.

"Lincoln Medical Hospital, ma'am," he replies, confused.

Soon after, a nurse walks in and looks surprised to see me awake. She hastily pulls out a clipboard, flipping through the pages before settling her gaze on me.

"I'll get the doctor," she says, and quickly exits the room.

A bathroom door is slightly ajar to my right. My throat feels parched, so I slide off the bed. My legs tremble under my weight, but I steady myself. One step, then another, until I reach the sink.

The mirror stares at me and my stomach drops. I don't know why. The woman looking at me feels strange and unfamiliar.

Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and beautiful eyes stare back at me. She looks flawless with her long, rich hair. But that's not what unsettles me. It's her. Her face should be mine, but I don't recognize it.

As I stare, an image of another woman flashes through the mirror, or is it in my mind? The woman has the same eyes and lips but different hair. I stumble back, my heart hammering in my chest. I clutch my chest, panicking, my mind is a jumbled mess. I lean in, studying the reflection. She looks so perfect, yet, I feel nothing when I look at her.

The face in the mirror changes. I still don't know her. I don't know myself. I need answers, and I need them fast.

Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door startles me, breaking my thoughts.

"Miso?" A voice calls out from the hallway. The nurse from earlier steps inside, her eyes observing me. "Miso, are you okay?"

"Miso..." The name lands on me like a ton of bricks, but it doesn't feel like it belongs to me...is it mine?

I nod, my heart racing. "Yeah, I am... I'm fine."

"Mr. Han's outside. He's been worried sick. He'll be happy to hear you're awake."

Mr. Han? Who's Mr. Han?

"I...I don't know who that is." My voice trembles, but I try to keep it steady. "He's the one who found and brought you after the accident".

The accident. My mind flashes to images of a flash of light, the screeching of tires, and then... nothing.

"I... I don't remember anything," I whisper quietly.

The nurse's face softens with pity "Don't worry. It'll come back to you. Just take it slow." She gestures for me to sit back down on the bed.

I nod numbly and do as she says.

I rub my eyes and glance at the door. Maybe I'll find some answers with Mr. Han.

A voice broke through my confusion.

"You're awake," a man said, his voice calm. "Thank God."

I blinked several times, trying to focus on him. A kind, wrinkled face stared at me with... concern. But who was he?

"Where am I?" My voice came out hoarse, as though I hadn't spoken in ages.

"You're in the hospital," he replied, his tone soothing. "You were in a bad accident. I brought you here."

An accident? The word echoed in my mind, but everything surrounding it felt like a blank canvas, no memories to fill in the gaps.

"I don't....." I started, but my thoughts felt scrambled. "Who am I?"

His eyes softened with concern. "Your name is Miso Kang," he said.

Miso Kang. The name stirred something deep inside me, but it didn't feel... right.

"Is that... my name?" The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

"Yes," the man said, giving me a reassuring smile. You don't remember?"

I swallowed hard, trying to concentrate, trying to focus on that name, but it was no use. "No," I whispered. "I don't remember."

"Don't worry," he said, as if trying to comfort me. "It's normal after something traumatic. It'll come back."

After a while, Mr. Han leaves and I can hear him speaking with the nurse from earlier. I walk towards the door, tired of sitting. Mr. Han and the nurse turn to me.

"You've been discharged Miss Miso", Mr. Han says.

"We will be leaving soon, I just have to visit the funeral going on, I always attend funerals that take place in my hospital". I nod weakly, too confused to question his words.

The fresh air hits me the moment we step onto the sidewalk, but it does nothing to clear the fog in my mind. As Mr. Han walks slowly toward the funeral procession, my legs feel like they're moving without my permission.

We stop in front of a large, open garden, and I feel my body stiffen. I watch as Mr. Han greets some people I don't recognize.....well-dressed, sad-faced.

My eyes are locked on a portrait, one of a woman whose features mirror the unfamiliar woman I saw in the bathroom mirror.

My breath catches in my throat, my heart pounds so loudly I can hardly hear anything else.

I don't even know how my feet carry me toward the altar, but suddenly, I'm kneeling in front of the portrait. The tears come uncontrollably.

I don't know why I'm crying but my chest tighten as the image of the woman in the portrait blurs before my eyes. Yiso Kenoly, the name reads. Yiso..." I whisper to myself, the name foreign on my lips.

What's happening to me? Why was this picture of a dead woman making my whole body tremble with an ache I can't describe.

I notice a man and woman walk in together, side by side, their eyes filled with tears. As they approach the coffin and me, my breath hitches, and I freeze.

Everything inside me screams at me to run, but I can't. All I can do is watch them approach.

I feel a strangling grip of terror begin to suffocate me, the world around me starts to blur, and then darkness.

YISO'S POV

A sudden gasp escapes my throat as I wake up abruptly, my body soaked in icy sweat. The final memory I have is being at that funeral, collapsing to my knees as the intense sorrow engulfed me entirely.

The name "Yiso Kenoly" resonates in my mind. I clutch the fabric below me, my hands shaking.

The space I occupy is softly illuminated, with the gentle hum of an air conditioner being the sole noise. I attempt to shift, yet my extremities are rigid, my physique burdensome. Then I listen to a voice.

Mr. Han. His tone is soft, infused with worry. There's another voice...a woman's, replying in soft whispers, but I can't discern the words.

I attempt to sit up, but a sudden, intense pain pierces my head. I flinch, pressing my eyes closed tight. And that's when it takes place.

A burst of brightness engulfs my sight and instantly I experience a sudden *thwack* on my head.

I perceive red.

A yell, my yell, echoes in my ears.

I open my eyes wide, inhaling sharply, clutching my head. It disappears, yet the fear endures.

I place a hand against my forehead. What was that? A recollection or an image?

The door groans open as Mr. Han enters. His demeanor is serene, yet his eyes reveal his concern.

"You're conscious," he murmurs gently. "How do you feel?"

I gulp down. "What... took place?" My voice is just above a murmur.

"You fainted at the funeral," he clarifies, moving nearer. "It must have overwhelmed you."

Excessive. That's putting it mildly.

I attempt to fend off the panic and survey the area. The space feels strange yet refined, featuring dark wooden furnishings and a big window that faces the city.

"Where am I located?"

"My residence," Mr. Han states. "I didn't want you to be alone at the hospital when you woke up, so I brought you here, and you can remain for as long as you want."

I nod gradually, yet my thoughts continue to whirl.

That picture......the hammer and the dazzling light endure.

Hands tremble, and heartbeat thunders in my ears.

"Miso?" Mr. Han's voice appears faraway, altered.

I compel myself to blink, to take a breath, yet my body won't settle down.

He observes and approaches slowly, as if he fears I might shatter.

"Miso, speak with me," he implores. I part my lips, yet the words refuse to emerge.

At last, I indicate the hammer, and he swiftly takes it as though aware of my anguish.

"The laborers must have abandoned it," he says. I stay quiet since I'm unsure of what to express.

I'm not sure why a basic hammer urges me to flee. Why it seems like a tool designed for me.

Later that night, I am seated in the living room, gazing vacantly at the TV screen. Mr. Han is seated close by, perusing a newspaper.

I'm unable to concentrate. My thoughts are a jumble of disjointed pictures and emotions that lack coherence.

The memorial service. The mallet. The title "Yiso Kenoly".

Who is that woman? Why does contemplating her make me feel as if I'm plummeting into a void?

The voice of the news anchor draws me out of my contemplation.

"We provide you with urgent news about Jang Foods, one of the top food firms in America based in the bustling city of New York."

I become immobilized.

"Jang Foods?" I murmur. The name seems to be a place known.

I shift my eyes to the display. A woman and a man stand in front of a line of microphones, their expressions serious. The journalists encircle them, cameras lighting up.

The man... there's something about him that turns my stomach. His defined features, how he poses.

The woman's face appears in my thoughts, just beyond my grasp.

I lean in closer, feeling my heart race.

Karen. Marshall. Their names surge into my thoughts unexpectedly. How can I recognize them?

I hold onto the armrest, my fingers sinking into the material. My breaths grow shallow.

"Miso?" Mr. Han speaks with caution.

I can hardly hear him.

The updates keep coming. "Recent controversies surrounding Jang Foods have sparked worries, especially about their CEO's abrupt exit after allegations..."

Abrupt exit? Accusations? I'm not sure why, but I have a sense that I ought to understand what's going on.

Karen and Marshall share a glance on screen. Next, Marshall begins to speak. "We are collaborating with the relevant authorities to address any misconceptions." The term seems incorrect.

A new wave of dizziness hits me. Karen's features. The voice of Marshall. Jang Food Products.

I shut my eyes tight, but rather than darkness, I see flashes.

I have blood on my hands and a set of frightened eyes looking at me. A soft voice tells me, "Run."

I inhale sharply, my body lurching forward as I return to the present.

Mr. Han is beside me in a flash, holding onto my shoulders.

"Miso, take a breath," he says with conviction. "You are secure."

Secure. I lack a sense of security. I sense I'm submerged in recollections I can't recall.

I grip his sleeve, my voice scarcely a murmur. "What is going on with me?"

Mr. Han's gaze becomes somber, and following an extended silence, he utters the phrase I hadn't anticipated. "I believe you ought to consult a therapist."

I've been living with Mr. Han for a few weeks now, and he has acted like my guardian angel. He motivated me to visit a therapist and even covered the substantial costs.

I can't even picture repaying him, so I've concluded that the minimum I can do is to improve myself and ease his worries.

I began visiting the therapist last week, and to be honest, it has been beneficial. I've also chosen to find employment since I can't continue relying on Mr. Han, regardless of how often he encourages me to do so.

Today, I attended a therapy session and am currently walking the streets looking for any job postings I come across. The city is more crowded than I expected.

Unexpectedly, I navigate the bustling streets as if I've done it countless times before.

I clutch the strap of my bag more firmly and pause in front of a stylish corporate building, examining the job board by the entrance.

"Administrator, Custodian." "Interns required," I whisper while running my fingers along the list, browsing through job advertisements.

Out of the blue, a voice I recognize calls out from behind me, "I know you."

The words cut through the air like a knife.

I become immobile.

YISO'S POV

I gradually pivot with a sensation of fear and apprehension.

What made me feel frightened? I wasn't caught doing anything wrong initially, yet I still couldn't eliminate the feeling.

Perhaps it's due to being quite anxious lately and the ongoing nightmares that I still can't understand are increasingly starting to unsettle me.

Each time I rise from sleep, it seems the puzzle grows increasingly challenging to assemble, but fortunately, it's not as tough as it once was.

The therapy is gradually proving beneficial for me in maintaining my composure during situations like this.

I wear a grin when I see the young man positioned before me. Based on his appearance and the accent I noticed, I believe he's British, but that's not the only quality I find attractive about him.

It's his shining eyes, fair hair. A firm jaw that enhances his face's appeal to me even more.

I'm still appreciating his appearance when he asks, "You are the lady, correct?"

"Excuse me, have we met before?" "Have we encountered each other previously?" I inquire with a truly confused expression on my face.

"You're the woman at the hospital, correct?" The bewildered woman?"

I took a small step back, feeling somewhat insulted, as I tried to grasp what he intended by confused.

"Oh, I didn't intend to upset you...perhaps I expressed it poorly," he states with a smile, and although I felt somewhat offended, I couldn't resist appreciating his smile.

It appeared so cozy and peaceful that, oddly, it put me at ease.

"It's simply that you seemed very disoriented that day in the hospital, inquiring about your location and identity...I truly intend no harm."

Eventually, the elements come together. I suddenly recall that he was the first individual I saw upon waking up.

"Ah, I recall, you were the custodian." I said with a cautious smile.

"Honestly, I like cleaning better... but janitor works too." He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

I chuckled quite a bit for the first time since I got up.

"What do you mean by cleaning man...that sounds really amusing." I said while still attempting to hold back my laughter.

"I'm pleased that he could make me laugh; it's a delight," he said, bowing gently and looking up to give me a brief wink that oddly made me blush.

"What brings you here?" He asks

"Um..." I am submitting my application for the secretary role, as I noticed there is an open position." I respond, gesturing toward the announcement I was looking at before.

"How lovely." "I wish you land the job; you appear to be a kind person." He rubs his neck, steering clear of eye contact for the initial time.

"Thank you, that's kind of you to mention. How about you, are you here to apply as well?"

"Oh no...I've been employed here for a year now. I've served as their 'cleaning guy'." He winks again, prompting me to laugh for the second time today.

"You're so funny," I say, grinning.

"I'm happy I managed to make a beautiful woman laugh," he responds, causing my face to flush.

"Well... I suppose I'll catch you later." I murmur, seeking a reason to depart.

"Wait a moment, I didn't catch your name." He states

"It's Miso... Miso kang, how about you?"

"Ferdinand Henshaw." He states with yet another delightful smile.

"It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Ferdinand." I suggest leaving.

I enter the building and proceed directly to the receptionist, saying, "Good morning. I've come to apply for the secretary position." I smile at her and say.

She gradually lifts her head and, without acknowledging my greeting, replies, "Place your file there. You will receive a call."

I nod and place it where she requests. I'm ready to go when I suddenly feel the urge to use the bathroom, so I turn to her and ask, "May I please use your restroom?"

"Of course, she replies while indicating to the left. "Along the corridor, the initial door on your right."

I adhere to the instructions and shortly find myself in the women's restroom. I go ahead with my work.

I'm just about to leave when I notice two women enter, and for some reason, I remain sitting quietly.

"I still can't accept that Miss Yiso has passed away. It's incredibly sorrowful." The first lady states.

"Do you see what I mean?" It doesn't make any sense at all, especially on her wedding anniversary. It's far too coincidental" The Second lady responds.

"Do you want to hear my opinion? I believe it's a murder. I don't think she simply passed away, and I suspect that Karen and Marshall are involved in it."

I believe it's the First Lady who spoke this time, as I can tell their voices apart.

"I honestly have no idea, Jane; everyone is still in disbelief, but if you were to inquire; I also sense that something is off, but I suppose we should keep our opinions private."

"I really dislike that the company has changed since she departed, particularly with Karen behaving as if she owns the place," responds the woman I believe is Jane.

I listen to them leaving, and I instantly sense goosebumps forming across my skin.

It remains incomprehensible to me that when I hear that name Yiso, I experience this inexplicable anguish. The therapist refers to it as an episode, but I believe it goes deeper than that.

I grip my chest as it feels tightly squeezed, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. Warm and uncontrollable tears start to stream down my face, the sensation so intense that I can't seem to rid myself of it.

I receive another glimpse of the hammer and grab my head; this time, the tears pour out like a flood.

I need some time to settle down, and suddenly I feel thankful that no one entered. I gather my composure swiftly and exit the restroom, and after taking a few steps, I collide with someone.

I'm on the verge of apologizing when I suddenly remember it's the same guy I spotted on television a couple of weeks back.

Again, the well-known fear resurfaces once more.