Chapter Three: Confession Does Not Mean Lightness

The vision nearly snapped his spine. Zhou had secretly filmed not one bride but twelve “load-bearers.” Zhao manufactured secrets around each person’s most frightened moments, measuring how quickly nearby possessions gained weight. Su was bait. The ring was an instrument. In an older recording, Zhou filmed a hospital crib. It was empty, but the name card read LIN YE. Deeper in the vision, someone rolled an empty suitcase into darkness. Its manufacture date was one day before the birthday on Lin’s papers. Lin released the case with blood in his mouth and his shoulder dislocated. Still, he kept one knee against it. “You aren’t looking for people who can move heavy things,” he said. “You want people who can carry secrets for others.”