Chapter Five: Locker B17

The music demanded they move together, but Shen Yan inhaled before the first beat. Lin Wu understood: a shared memory could anchor them and divide the price. They danced the first eight counts they had ever rehearsed. He used to offer his hand too early; she had accused him of controlling her. In time, they had polished the error into trust. “What is the price?” Lin Wu asked. “The moment you first loved him,” said the White Lady. The memory opened: a powerless rehearsal room, Shen Yan lighting Lin Wu's injured ankle with his phone, missing the last train to bandage it. Lin Wu had never admitted what began that night. The ballroom fed.