Against a lambent ground of rose-grey vapour, Yuki Tham stages a mirrored encounter with herself: on the left, a lifted little finger proposes the familiar childhood "pinky promise"; on the right, its doppelganger hesitates, poised to accept. The muted palette and velvety glazing recall salon portraiture, yet the diptych's split staging feels closer to a smartphone selfie mirror or video game split-screen. The downward-cast gaze of the subject withholds direct address, redirecting attention to the charged space between the canvases where the vow remains unfinished. The work inaugurated a sequence of self-reflective portraits developed in Tham's debut solo exhibition Beauty Behind The Madness (2017) and later in Heart And Mind, Realigned (2020), where she continued to probe "choices not yet spoken aloud" through doubled or fragmented figures. Viewed through this lens, I Made a Promise's true point of tension is the narrow gap between the panels: the suspended gesture that leaves no resolution for both viewer and subject.