Morning has broken. Trees are chattering, leaves bathed in gold, and the institute hums again with the thud of footsteps ..... but the bustle is thinner than it should be. Something of the place has gone quiet.
There is one room that is utterly emptied out, hollow as if someone stole the breath from a living thing. Curtains, lit by gentle sunlight, float in a trivial breeze; dust motes ride the light. It is Wee and Lamai's room .... and they are not there. No laughter, no shadow, only a silence that sits heavy and absolute.
That hollow feeling is not contained to the dorm. Sunlight finds its way into the lab's cracked corners, but Kai doesn't notice. Every step tugs at her; every breath tightens a knot in her chest. A disaster waits on the bench: the medicine they came for .... the product of Morwyn noxflora .... has been ruined. Mice have scattered and chewed the vials; the plants themselves lie shriveled and dead. Not a single fragment of Morwyn noxflora remains. It is not only the plant that is lost .... it is Kai's plan, her hopes, the whole architecture of her scheme. Teanguan's mind is fraying already; he cannot fathom Kai's odd behavior, and now this: the death of the poisonous herb means everything they've built can collapse.
"If we don't get out of here fast, someone will find us," Teanguan says, eyes darting to the ceiling. Kai stares at the dry, ruined heap of plants. She hears him. She hears the urgency. But a thought keeps circling, colder than fear: if they burn the plants now, the smoke will be poisonous. Is there no other way to kill it? Is there any way that will not make more death?
Before she can answer, voices rise from outside. Kai and Teanguan listen. For a second they only look at one another .....surprised, tense ..... then rush out. They come upon Suda calling, his voice cracking through the trees: "Wee! Lamai!" He's shouting both names, as if certain they'll be under the green leaves taking pictures .... they always come here to photograph leaves and the bright grass. Maybe today they are here too, he thinks.
By the time Kai and Teanguan have run the last yards, Suda looks like a man whose children have vanished: pallid, frantic, like someone who has been hollowed out by worry. Kai and Teanguan are soaked through from the rain; Kai appears like a drenched, wild she-lion ... all coiled power and sharpened edges. When Suda sees her face, something goes out of him. Kai's expression is calm but dangerous, as if a prize has slipped from a hunter's grasp. The sight renders poor Suda speechless; the questions he has cannot find a voice.
Kai and Teanguan stand with him; Suda's tongue seems paralyzed in his mouth. Kai fixes him with a slanted, knife-sharp look ..... she tries, outwardly, to remain composed, but the defeat on her face is a thing she cannot hide. That look alone is enough to undo the small courage Suda still clings to. In that instant, his spirit seems to retract from its body; he trembles as if someone has drained color and strength out of him.
Teanguan, however, does something small and strangely human: he gives Suda a quick, crooked smile ..... a little lifeline thrown across the fear. It is meant to stop Suda from collapsing entirely. It is the first time Teanguan has smiled at anyone but Kai. Kai sees it and is momentarily taken aback. Teanguan watches Suda; Suda looks between them both.
For a beat, the three of them stand like a live fuse: Kai, awful and controlled; Teanguan, tense and oddly tender; Suda, unraveling. The air between them tastes like an explosion that has already gone off .... a bomb dropped and run from. Still, beneath the shock there is a strange bitter-sweetness, an odd tenderness braided through the fear.
And far away, at the city end of the case, Bai Yin still waits for the search warrant to land on his desk. His patience is starting to fray.