The mermaid looked at me with eyes that trembled between fear and confusion. Her delicate wrists were tightly bound with coarse rope, the fibers digging faintly into her pale blue skin. A metallic collar clung around her neck, chained to the wall behind the marble tub where she was half-submerged. Her tail — shimmering with a spectrum of deep ocean blues and soft silver — flicked faintly beneath the water, stirring small ripples that glistened in the dim light. The faint echo of dripping water made the whole room feel eerily silent.
"Hello," Han greeted softly, her voice gentle, almost like she was talking to a frightened child. "Are you doing well?" she asked, smiling faintly.
The mermaid's eyes darted toward her. For a split second, the tension in her expression melted away — the fear retreating, replaced by something calmer, almost familiar.
"Did the two of you know each other?" I asked, glancing at Han curiously.
