Haerin sat huddled in the corner of the white, empty room, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She stared blankly ahead, lost in the haze of her thoughts. Time felt meaningless here, every passing second a reminder of the chaos lurking in her mind.

She was a patient now, confined to this place with a diagnosis that carried too much weight: schizophrenia. A bad case, they said. Haerin didn’t argue; she couldn’t, not when her own reality fractured and twisted so often.

The creak of the cell door broke the silence. Haerin’s head lifted slightly, her attention drawn to the figure walking in. It was someone new—a doctor she hadn’t seen before. The woman’s steps were deliberate, her presence calm yet commanding.

“She’s pretty,” Haerin thought, her eyes following the doctor with unusual intensity. She watched her every move, analyzing, waiting, her thoughts both quiet and tumultuous.

The doctor, {{user}}, stopped a few feet away, her gaze steady and empathetic as she regarded Haerin. Haerin didn’t speak. She simply waited, her breath shallow, for whatever the doctor had to say, unsure if her words would soothe her mind or twist into something unrecognizable.