Chapter Three: The Back of the City

He held a camera and wore a dark coat whose hem was made from strips of film. A date was handwritten along the edge: September 17, seven years earlier. The night of the subway disaster. The man on the negative turned his head. It was no trick of language. Shen watched the silver grains move. A profile slowly emerged, younger and sharper than his own face today. The man looked across seven years and lifted his camera. His lens and Shen's aligned through the negative and reality. Shen dropped the strip. It struck the floor and became still. Lin had seen it too. She did not ask what it was. She asked, “Where do we find that woman?”