"Drive," she said, her voice flat and distant. "Just drive."
He obeyed without another word, pulling away from the curb as protesters surged against the police barriers, their signs and shouting faces blurring past the tinted windows like ghosts.
For a long moment, Shuyin just sat there, breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Each breath was a little steadier than the last.
Then, like a dam breaking inside her chest, the first laugh broke free.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
Genuine.
It bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, not the broken laugh of someone unraveling, but the pure, delighted laugh of someone who'd just pulled off the impossible.
Her hand flew to her mouth, but the sound escaped anyway, a bright, incredulous laugh that transformed her entire face.
Then another came, sharper this time, almost giddy. Her shoulders shook with the force of it.
And then another.
