C | Chapter 9.3 | Confession | Crack in the Vice

The person who had been consumed by depression and schizophrenia wasn’t his mother. It was Ian. The person who had witnessed his stepfather’s death was also Ian. And it was Ian who almost got charged with first-degree murder as the primary suspect in his stepfather’s killing.

When his treatment at Rosehillman began, Ian faced another crisis—one that required him to reveal his secrets to others. Dr. Hillen, though different from the police, was relentless in trying to make Ian confront his memories. It was terrifying. Ian realized it wasn’t enough to just bury his secrets. He began manipulating his own memories, something he found surprisingly easy. His memories were already fragmented from the Rohypnols effects.

Instead of trying to piece those fragments back into reality, Ian left them scattered. Once he got used to it, a part of him began crafting a carefully structured lie out of those fractured memories.

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In the fake memories he created, life at the Winchell House had been peaceful. Up until his stepfather was killed by an unknown assailant. Ian was away at camp that day, only hearing about his stepfather’s death afterward.

That’s why he could remain detached in the face of the Winchell House tragedy.

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The police turned their suspicions to his mother, who had been home alone with his stepfather that day. They speculated that her obsessive charity work hinted at marital dissatisfaction.

Under the pressure of the investigation, his mother gradually broke down and ended up in a mental hospital. Ian, away at college, only heard about it.

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Having never witnessed the tragedy directly, he felt detached from it. Over time, these lies became Ian’s carefully cultivated truth, smothering his real memories.

By the time Ian began recovering from the side effects of Rohypnol, his false memories were complete. The crippling headaches gradually disappeared, and he found peace in his fabricated reality.

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Though Dr. Hillen stated that Ian wasn’t fully recovered, he was stable enough to lead a normal life, and he was discharged. His discharge papers doubled as a dropout letter, and the double room he had shared with Leo Sebastian transformed into a dormitory on a university campus.

And eventually, he erased even that memory.

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When Ian finally returned home, he began living a false life based on his false memories. His unpaid hospital bills became debts, and the house was already mortgaged. Ian believed it was because of his mother’s hospitalization, not because of anything he had done. He needed to make money.

Without a high school diploma, job options were limited. He couldn’t hold a formal job, so he took a position as a part-time waiter at a small restaurant. That was how Ian Winchell’s life started.

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Sometime later, his mother took her own life. She fell from the second-floor railing, breaking her neck. Blood flowed from her shattered head. Her eyes were wide open, staring ahead, but no matter how hard Ian tried, he couldn’t get her to meet his gaze.

The tragedy of the Winchell House was complete, and Ian was left alone in the blackened ashes.

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The secret of that night was safely buried in his memory. Ian no longer remembered Leo. The fake memories were satisfying. Sad and lonely, yes, but no longer frightening. Ian thought he’d live that way forever.

Until the night Leo, the real Leo, reappeared, along with Ian’s true memories.

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“Leo… shouldn’t have come back.”

Ian murmured. The fake Leo, the stand-in he’d created, wept in his place.

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“Ian, Ian…”

Calling him constantly, as if unsure what else to say, the false Leo wept for him. Ian looked at Leo Sebastian with a faint smile.

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“I killed my stepfather. That’s what I’ll tell the police. Leo can’t be a murderer.”

“Ian, but then… you would be…”

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Ian knew what Leo Sebastian was trying to say. But he wasn’t afraid. He’d decided on this ever since the moment Leo had taken the weight of being a murderer in his place. He wasn’t afraid. What scared him more was the world discovering that Leo had killed his stepfather.

“It’s fine. I really am mentally ill. Instead of prison, I’ll be sent to a hospital. My stepfather’s abuse of me is true, so I might even get leniency. It’s far better than Leo going to prison.”

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“Ian…”

Leo Sebastian said nothing more, embracing Ian tightly. Ian looked toward Dr. Hillen, who had been silently observing, and spoke.

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“I have to turn myself in. Sitting here isn’t going to help. Leo needs to be freed.”

Ian intended to take on the responsibility for Leo’s second murder, too. He believed the claim that he killed his stepfather, who’d assaulted him, would be easily accepted.

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Ian gave a faint smile at Dr. Hillen. It was a pale, almost pitiful smile.

“Before that, could you write me a prescription? In case my headache comes back. I wouldn’t want to have a fit in jail.”

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Dr. Hillen, who had been looking at Ian intently, slowly opened his mouth.

“Not yet, Ian.”

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Ian’s smile faded.

“…I didn’t expect you to say that. Why?”

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Dr. Hillen replied,

“Because there’s still something in your story that isn’t true. You’re still lying to me, Ian.”

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“…”

Ian stared at Dr. Hillen, bewildered.

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“Mrs. Winchell wasn’t killed in the house, Ian. The police came to me and asked where you were and how you’d been recently. Your mother went missing after driving away. Her car was found downstream in the Endover River, but her body was never recovered. The police presumed she was dead, so the funeral was held months later. Since I didn’t know the date, I couldn’t attend.”

“…”

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Ian’s lips parted slightly. He didn’t make a sound, but the horror and confusion radiating from him were clear.

“So let me ask you, Ian.”

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Dr. Hillen’s expression was pained as he asked his question carefully.

“Did you… kill your mother? Push her from the second-floor railing?”

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“…”

Ian couldn’t answer. Not even the false memories he’d created were flawless. He gripped his head tightly. As Dr. Hillen looked at Ian’s bloodless, ashen face, he spoke again.

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“I know you’re suffering. But you have to remember, Ian. As long as there are gaps in your story, I can’t believe everything you say is the truth. I need to determine if you’re still experiencing delusions or hallucinations from schizophrenia.”

Desperately, Ian clawed through his mind, tearing through the layers of false memories he’d created to find the truth buried deep within. Strands of hair fell from his fingertips. Leo wrapped his arms around Ian, who was thrashing in torment, holding him close. “Ian, Ian…” He kept murmuring, his voice trembling.

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“I have to go… home.”

Ian clearly remembered his mother’s death.

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The sound of a loud thud, then a crash. Ian, who had been lying in bed, burst out of his room into the darkness. At first, he couldn’t see anything. Groping blindly like a person who couldn’t see, he finally found the source of the noise.

A broken-necked corpse, eyes wide open, a puddle of blood, a metallic scent. Death.

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He remembered the pool of blood at his feet. The crawling, monstrous liquid that clung to his ankles from his stepfather’s body.

Ian screamed. He felt the memories of that night bursting through the veil of lies, tearing free. A throbbing headache hit him like a seizure. Crawling on all fours through the darkness, he returned to his room, rummaged through the drawer, and found painkillers. He swallowed as many as he could and collapsed into sleep.

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The next morning, when Ian woke, the house was completely silent. The corpse, the blood, the stench of death—none of it remained. The spot where the body had been was clean, not a trace of blood. Ian assumed his mother had just gone out. When she hadn’t returned after two days, he filed a missing person report. Months later, the police finally told him she was presumed dead. Ian accepted her death, conducted her funeral, and reconciled his memory of the day he saw her corpse with the facts the police had given him. He convinced himself that his mother had died, that she had fallen from the second-floor railing and taken her own life.

“I have to… go back. There must be something there.”

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Ian’s jaw trembled as he spoke.

“A corpse… or evidence.”

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His memory hadn’t failed him. The memories Ian had fabricated gave only a vague acknowledgment; they couldn’t vividly reproduce the image of seeing his mother’s body. That meant what he’d seen with his own eyes was the truth.

“Someone… cleared the body from the house. Without me knowing.”

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Dr. Hillen and Leo’s faces grew cold, like the stillness of a corpse, as they watched Ian. They didn’t doubt him; it was the growing realization that Ian’s secrets weren’t confined to his stepfather’s death. The tragedy of the Winchell House likely wasn’t over.

After a long silence, Leo muttered,

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“That person… Revenant. Why did he suddenly come back?”

“What do you mean?”

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“I just have a thought. He’s the only other person involved who knows what happened in the past. That person committed murder and fled. Returning to this country is risky for him. But… he returned with perfect timing, didn’t he? Your mother died, the fire happened, you went bankrupt, and he ended up staying with you. Was it all a coincidence? Or was it something he planned?”

Ian shook his head as if it couldn’t be true.

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“It’s not like that. Why are you talking badly about Leo?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying, look at it from a distance. The incidents in your life can’t be separated from him.”

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“What are you saying? Do you mean Leo killed my mom?”

“It could be, or it might not.”

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Ian’s eyes flashed in anger.

“Leo didn’t do it!”

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“But you don’t know for sure. No, I don’t think he killed your mother either. I’m just saying he might have been involved. Maybe he hid her body and staged her disappearance, thinking the shock of her death would be too much for you.”

“…”

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Ian remained silent, not sure what to make of Leo’s words. Leo’s theory was convincing, but something felt missing, like a piece didn’t quite fit.

“No, that’s not it. I first met Revenant after the funeral. My mom died months before that. If he’d hidden her body to spare me the shock, that wouldn’t add up. Someone who’d go to such lengths wouldn’t have stood by while I held her funeral.

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When did Revenant enter the country? Do you remember?”

“…Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. When was the funeral? He arrived on April 19th.”

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“Then it was after the funeral. The first time I saw Leo outside my house was April 19th. That means he came to see me as soon as he entered the country.”

A sharp ache gripped Ian’s chest. He rubbed his hand over his heart, recalling the sensation of Revenant’s touch and gaze, replaying like a vivid memory.

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— Forget it. While you can still bear it. Me and Leo.

How far was he willing to sacrifice himself for Ian? Why had he risked returning? Why had he sought Ian out immediately? Why had he done so much for him?

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But it seemed like only Ian could truly feel that. Leo Sebastian still harbored doubts.

“Still, it’s strange. If it wasn’t him, who else could have done it?”

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“It wasn’t Revenant. He… he wouldn’t hurt me. After all he’s done for me, I know he wouldn’t.”

“He lied to you the whole time.”

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“That’s… not it. You saw it too. He told me, as the CIA took him away, that this was as much as I could bear. And he was relieved. Leo didn’t want me to remember anything about my stepfather. Even when I blamed him for everything, he never told me why he killed my stepfather. That was all for me. You were there, how could you say that about him?”

“Right now, Revenant’s the only suspect left. If he didn’t do it, then that means there was a third person. But who…?”

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Just then, a thought struck both of them. They exchanged glances, their eyes widening, and spoke almost simultaneously.

“The lawyer!”

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“Lloyd Gillen.”

He was another figure unexpectedly tangled in the tragedy of the Winchell House. He was the dead stepfather’s lawyer, who’d eagerly bought the burnt house from the bank.

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Ian spoke, his voice unsteady but resolute.

“There’s something in that house… Lloyd Gillen must have wanted it. We have to find out what it is.”

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Leo nodded.

“You’re right.”

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The answer lay back at the Winchell House.

The origin of the tragedy was there, along with the reason for it. To bring an end to it all, Ian had to dig through the ashes of that burnt house and uncover the truth.

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To ensure Revenant’s safety, too.

“Let’s go, Ian. I’ll go with you.”

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Leo Sebastian added seriously. He’d been dozing intermittently since arriving early that morning, but he said Tim would also come along because he was worried. “You’re not going alone. Let’s go together.”

Ian smiled faintly.

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“Thank you. All of you.”

He meant it. For the first time since Leo left, Ian realized he wasn’t alone in his grief. The fake Leo he’d created as a substitute wasn’t a mere replacement; he was a source of solace. Ian, who still remembered why he’d had to learn hacking from Leo, felt truly grateful for his presence.

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The things he’d said to Leo—that he was glad they were together and that he was thankful he was there—had all been genuine.

“Let’s go to that house, find the evidence, and then figure out how to help Revenant. There must be a way. Not one as extreme as taking on the murder charge.”

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The one who said that was now truly his friend. A friend he was so grateful for that the simple words “thank you” felt insufficient.

So Ian didn’t say that he didn’t care if there was no other way besides an extreme one.

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“Thank you.”

That was all he said.

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Ian and his companions, with Tim Hogan now joining them, headed to West Lafayette, where the Winchell House was located. Dr. Hillen lent them his car, offering Ian a supply of painkillers and reminding him to reach out anytime he needed help.

“You’re an incredibly strong person, Ian.”

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Dr. Hillen accompanied them to the parking lot, seeing Ian off with these words.

“When I think about everything you’ve gone through and the things you did to overcome it, I know. Patients need treatment, and doctors exist to help them, but ultimately, a doctor can’t truly heal a patient. They just assist in the process. This is especially true in psychiatry. You’re a patient who can heal himself without my help. Don’t let your past or your wounds weigh you down, Ian. You’re strong. You have the power not to lose yourself in all that. I hope, as your doctor, that regaining what you lost in that house will be the final step in your healing journey. By healing yourself, you might even be able to help that person. The sacrifices that person made for you should be honored in that way. Not by taking on a murder charge.”

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Dr. Hillen was genuinely kind. Ian could sense his sincere hope for his healing. In response, Ian simply nodded without another word.

“Yes.”

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“Now, go on.”

Tim Hogan, seated in the driver’s seat, started the car. Dr. Hillen stood there, watching Ian until the car was out of sight. Ian glanced back in the side mirror, watching Dr. Hillen fade into the distance as he let out a faint, weary sigh.

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Leo and Dr. Hillen had both insisted that Ian must not become a murderer. But the one who truly shouldn’t bear that label was not him—it was Revenant.

It should have been me who killed my stepfather, not him.

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Ian squeezed his eyes shut, as if to contain the thoughts trying to escape.

I have to… make sure of it. Leo must never be known as the one who killed my stepfather. No one can ever find out the truth.

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That single thought roared within him, more than just a desire to repay Revenant’s sacrifice. He felt a relentless urgency, as if something inside him was prodding him constantly, refusing to let his resolve waver. His mind returned to Revenant. He wondered where he was now, what state he was in. His chest ached with worry, and anxiety threatened to break him apart.

Wait for me, Leo. I’ll make sure you don’t have to live as a murderer. I’ll repay you for what you did for me.

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You, more than anyone, need to forget everything that happened that day. Leave that day buried here with me and go live your life. I’ll make sure of it.

I love you, Leo. Even during the time when I had lost you, I loved you.

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I love you, Leo. I’m sorry for remembering you.

I love you, Leo. Thank you for coming back. I’ll return the life you deserve.

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Ian repeated the same words to himself over and over as the car moved forward.

I love you, Leo…

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All those words meant just one thing: that he loved Leo—he loved Revenant.