The voice came again through what had to be a megaphone, and this time she recognized it with absolute certainty.
Jin Zixuan.
"Zhou Yuxi! If you can hear us, make a signal! Any signal!"
Her throat closed.
They were still searching.
After hours. After the explosion. After dark had fallen and any reasonable person would have called it off and gone home to grieve. After all, who could survive in the sea waters for such a longer period of time.
They were still searching.
For her.
Zhou Yuxi's hand went to her mouth, pressing against it as something enormous and overwhelming crashed through her — relief and guilt and gratitude all tangled together into something she didn't have a name for.
They hadn't given up.
They hadn't given up.
She looked down at herself — at the torn wedding dress, at her bare feet, at the blood and seawater and the general state of someone who looked more like a disaster victim than a living person.
Then she looked back at the lights.
