"It's me, sis. What's wrong?"
That clean, clear voice flowed like spring water through the cold night—but before its echo could fade, Lin Sanjiu abruptly ended the call. The blue pinpoint of light on the communicator died, too drained to ever light up again. The long-distance call had completely exhausted its battery.
She examined the communicator, turning it over a few times, before raising her hand and flinging it far into the forest.
As Lin Sanjiu jumped down from the large tree and started walking toward Exodus, the knot of turmoil in her chest felt as if it had been plunged into ice water, settling heavy and cold upon her heart.
'What should I do next?'
'Should I take out another communicator and call back?'
'What if the one who answers is... that same voice? No, that's not right.' Lin Sanjiu suddenly came to her senses, cutting off the thought.
