The door clicked shut, but the handsome boy carefully shut it...
I watched it for a few seconds longer than I should have, arms folded, pulse thick in my ears. That man had the kind of confidence you didn't see anymore—not the fake kind. Not bravado. The quiet kind that came from doing things others wouldn't. Couldn't.
I'd faced worse than men who talk smooth and make bold promises. I'd buried friends in shit fields behind half-burned refugee camps. I'd dragged a broken girl out of a wrecked bus during the chaotic riots. I wasn't green or soft.
But this?
That man dropped a miracle on my floor and walked away like it meant nothing.
I crouched again beside Auntie Lei and picked up the vial. It was real. No cloudy mix. No cut suspension. The metal cap still shone under the low light.
I held it in both hands like it might break if I breathed too hard.
"Still warm," I whispered. "Still breathing."
Her eyes moved, faint beneath the lids.
