Her eyes wandered outside for a minute before staying still in the van.
Huo Ting Cheng leaned slightly closer, his gaze scanning her face. The tight line of her jaw and the way her fingers clenched the edge of her seat didn't escape him. He sighed, a low, almost imperceptible sound, and reached out, his hand brushing the back of hers briefly, grounding her. "Hey," he softly murmured, "breathe, we're safe now."
But outside, the world didn't feel safe. Smoke coiled in lazy, ghostlike spirals, blurring the edges of light and shape. Through the tinted glass, Tang Fei could almost imagine figures moving, shadows caught in the dance of flame and dust. Her pulse drummed in her ears, drowning out the murmur of the soldiers' voices and the static of the radio.
The van jolted slightly as they turned a corner, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw someone, someone familiar, standing amidst the haze, eyes wide, lips parted as if crying her name.
