Chapter Five: The Body Doesn't Lie

Three belonged to Wenchuan's dead subjects. Beside my name was a note: Class S. Stable first separation. High aggression. At 12:44 a.m., I arranged evidence bags, sterile swabs, and two glucose meters before the mirror. “Xiao Mian.” I called her for the first time. The reflected light flickered. She appeared behind me with black ligature wounds across one shoulder. “Bai Zhi told you not to call.” “That's why I did.” I asked for her hand. She sneered but pressed a finger to the lancet. Real blood welled. Both meters read 4.9; mine read 6.2. She planted her thumb on a glass and left a complete print. I examined her pupils, pulse, and capillary refill. Her heart beat forty-four times per minute, her temperature thirty-three Celsius.