Chapter Two: A Borrowed Childhood

When Shen arrived that afternoon, cardboard boxes filled the stairwell. Electrical wires drooped from the peeling walls like aging veins. A sixteen-year-old boy lived at the end of the sixth floor. His name was Chen Mo, but he had no legal registration. His mother had died three months earlier, and even the landlord did not know he remained there. The boy watched through the security gate. Old cuts covered his wrist. “Are you planning to start a fire in seven days?” Shen asked. The door slammed. Su He came up the stairs in civilian clothes carrying two hot meals. “You have a terrible way of questioning people,” she said. She could have called the police and walked away after last night, but she had insisted on coming.