Chapter Two: In This Room, the Dead Are Still Alive

He wiped his face, looking suddenly fifteen years younger. “Daddy isn't leaving. Never again.” Dread tightened Zhou's chest. Fine cracks had appeared in the alley wall. Beyond the plaster was not brick, but black space. When Chen said he would never leave, the cracks sealed at once, as though the room approved. “Old Chen, what time is it?” “Don't bother me.” “Six forty-two. Your file says the southern levee failed at seven ten. We have twenty-eight minutes.” Chen spun around. The sky remained clear, but muddy water was already bubbling from the drains. Memory did not have to obey weather. It only had to reach the ending its owner believed. “Xiaoman, get your mother. We're going uphill.” Chen swept her into his arms.