Piece by piece, and piece by piece.
The fire on the far wall was getting louder, the crackling sound climbing in pitch as it found new material, and the smoke was thickening around them fast enough that each breath came with a slight resistance.
Then—
Two hands appeared in the gap.
One small. Child sized. Fingers slightly curled. And beside it, an adult hand, palm upward, completely still.
Jisoo moved forward without a word and pressed two fingers against each wrist in turn. The motion was practiced. Quick. Clinical in a way that came from having done it enough times that emotion had been separated from the action entirely.
She pulled her hand back.
"They're dead."
The words landed in the room like something physical.
Han's crying broke into something louder and more broken, the sound of it filling the burning classroom while smoke drifted between them and the fire crackled closer on the wall behind them.
