Chapter Five: Tomorrow Stolen from the Emergency Ward

Su Li raised the badge, but the manager's contract flickered out. This was not the Night Kitchen. Its rules had no authority here. The boy dove through the wall. Su Li caught the paper ribbon and tumbled after him into a giant medical chart. Its boxes imprisoned the stolen tomorrows: an old man feeding pigeons, a nurse eating after work, a girl running at sports day. Folded into cranes, these ordinary days flew beneath a distant white umbrella. “Humans already steal time,” White Umbrella said. “Employers buy workers' nights. Patients buy doctors' sleep. This child is merely honest.” The noise of a thousand futures nearly drowned Su Li. She sorted it into layers, pushing aside fear, desire, and the anger amplified by White Umbrella.