Kai barely slept. When he finally woke, his neck was stiff from the way he had slumped sideways on the couch, one foot still touching the floor as if he had fallen asleep mid-thought. The safehouse was quiet. Morning light filtered in through the half-broken blinds and drew soft stripes across the dusty concrete.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his face. His eyes felt swollen, not from crying but from holding everything in.
Lian wasn’t in the room.
He stood up quickly and scanned the tiny space. Her boots were gone. Her jacket too. The kettle was still warm though, and that eased his pulse a little.
She was somewhere nearby.
He walked into the kitchenette and poured water into a mug. It was bitter, but he drank it anyway. He needed something to wake him before his mind started inventing disasters. Lian had always moved through mornings like someone already two steps ahead. He was the one who lagged, the one whose thoughts tripped over themselves.
He was halfway through the drink when he heard soft footsteps behind him.
Lian stepped in, carrying a small paper bag. She set it down on the counter.
“You’re awake,” she said. Her voice was even, steady. “I got breakfast.”
“You went out?” he asked, trying not to sound worried.
“It’s Hong Kong,” she said, shrugging lightly. “You can’t walk ten meters without running into a bakery stall.”
He eyed her. “Still. You shouldn’t go on your own.”
“I can walk to buy buns,” she replied, giving him a small look, almost amused. “I’ve handled worse.”
He knew she was right, but the reminder stung. She wasn’t reckless, but she had a way of absorbing danger like it was part of her breath. He always felt the aftershocks more than she did.
Kai opened the bag. Egg tarts, pineapple buns, two soy milks.
He smiled a little. “You remembered.”
“You always forget to eat when your head is full,” she said. “Thought something warm might help.”
They ate in silence for a moment. The room felt less heavy with food on the table. Kai took a slow bite of the egg tart and leaned back.
“So,” he said, trying to ease into the real question. “What’s the plan today?”
Lian wiped crumbs from her fingers. “We still have the fixer’s phone. I want to dig into the call logs again. Something’s off about the timing.”
He nodded. “I can run it through a few different scrapers. Try cross-referencing with the old files Mom hid.”
She met his eyes. “We’ll move slow. No need to jump into anything.”
“I know,” he said, though part of him felt the opposite. The closer they got, the more he wanted to push. It was a dangerous instinct, one he wasn’t proud of.
She must have sensed the current in him because she leaned forward slightly. “We’re not racing anyone,” she said. “We follow leads at our pace.”
He nodded again, but something still nagged at him. “You didn’t sleep either, right?”
She didn’t answer right away. She looked toward the window instead, watching the soft sun push through the grime.
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“I slept enough,” she said finally.
Which meant no.
Kai sighed. “You know you don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”
“Someone has to lead,” she replied, but without heat. “Someone has to decide what’s next.”
“You don’t trust me to do that?”
She blinked, surprised by the angle. “Of course I trust you.”
“Then let me take some of it.”
Her jaw tightened for a moment. Not in anger. More like she was trying to figure out how to respond without making things heavier.
“Kai,” she said gently. “This isn’t about trust. It’s about weight. Some things sit better on me than on you.”
“That’s not fair,” he said. “I’m not a kid.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then stop treating me like I’ll break.”
Her expression softened. She stood and moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. It startled him a little how warm her touch was.
“You’re stronger than you think,” she said. “But strength isn’t the same thing as being ready. I want you to choose what you carry. Not be crushed by what I hand you.”
He looked at her, trying to read everything behind her words. She wasn’t belittling him. She was protecting him in the only way she knew how.
He let out a slow breath. “Okay. But let me help today. Really help.”
She nodded. “You will.”
The moment settled between them, quiet and real. Then Lian stepped back and reached for the fixer’s phone on the counter.
“Come on,” she said. “Show me what you’ve got.”
They sat on the couch with Kai’s laptop balanced between them. The phone connected through a cracked cable Kai kept taped together. He started pulling logs, running them through scripts he had written years ago in a cramped apartment they used to share. The movements were familiar, automatic, almost comforting.
“See this?” he said, pointing to a list of numbers. “He called this contact three times the day before our parents died. And again two hours after.”
Lian leaned in. “Same number that showed up in Mom’s encrypted folder.”
“Yeah.”
“Location?”
“Scrambled. Probably bounced through a spoof tower.”
She frowned. “Of course.”
He scrolled further. “But here’s something. The call lasted only eight seconds.”
“That’s barely enough to say hello.”
“Exactly. Either it was a confirmation call or a code phrase.”
She rubbed her forehead. “We should check if that number ever pinged near the docks. You remember Dad used to…”
Her voice faded. Talking about their parents always seemed to pull her somewhere else. Not sadness exactly. More like she was walking through dust that hadn’t settled.
Kai typed quietly, giving her a moment. “We can map all tower activity in that area,” he said. “It won’t take long.”
She nodded. “Good.”
There was a knock outside. Not sharp and not soft. A single rap and then silence.
Both of them froze.
Lian set the phone down and stood. Kai closed the laptop, moving it aside. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to.
The knock came again, same pattern. One clean hit. No follow up.
Lian stepped toward the door and paused by the wall, listening. Kai watched her shoulders rise slightly as she drew a breath.
She glanced at him. “Stay back.”
He nodded.
She opened the door a few inches, ready for anything.
An old man stood outside, hunched over a walking stick. His eyes were pale and unfocused. He looked more confused than threatening.
“Miss?” he said in Cantonese. “Someone told me this was the last place my nephew stayed. I’m trying to find him.”
Lian slowly eased the tension from her stance. Kai stepped closer but stayed behind her.
“We don’t know him,” Lian said calmly.
The man sighed, shoulders drooping. “I see. Sorry to trouble you.”
He turned to leave.
Lian watched until he disappeared down the stairwell. When she shut the door, Kai let out a breath he had been holding.
“That felt weird,” he said quietly.
“It did,” she agreed. “But not everything is danger.”
He nodded, though he wasn’t fully convinced.
Lian sat back down beside him. “Let’s keep working.”
He opened the laptop again, took another bite of the now cold bun, and forced his nerves to settle.
Whatever they were digging into, it was getting closer.
But for now, it was just the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, moving through the shadows at their own pace.
