Chapter Five: Seat Thirteen

They arrived early. The auditorium still used manual masking curtains. Under seat thirteen, Shen found fresh paint concealing a film strip. His own handwriting was on it: Do not let Lu see the screen. At midnight, the viewers filed in, leaving row thirteen empty as if by agreement. The memorial began, but the screen showed not the fire but countless closed eyes. Lu emerged from the back carrying a film canister wired to a thin fuse. “You kept them trapped in there for three years,” he told the crowd. “Tonight, you can watch it to the end.” He shoved the canister toward the projector. Shen rushed him. The aspect ratio narrowed, and black curtains squeezed the crowd into the center, erasing the exits from the shot.