The dog stared back.
Bai Li pointed toward the nearby shelter sign.
"Go there."
The dog tilted its head.
Yan Cijin laughed.
"It does not understand you."
"It should."
"Because?"
"Because I spoke clearly."
Yan Cijin shook her head.
They left the dog near the shelter entrance, where several bowls had been placed under an awning.
Bai Li glanced back once.
The dog was following them with its eyes.
Yan Cijin noticed.
"You are worried."
"No."
"You looked back."
"I was checking the road."
"Of course."
Bai Li accelerated.
Yan Cijin smiled quietly.
Before the final three kilometers, they passed a long avenue lined with wrecked buses.
One of them still had its doors open.
A child-sized handprint marked one of the windows from the inside.
Yan Cijin stared at it.
Bai Li noticed.
"Do not think about it."
"I was not."
"You were."
Yan Cijin sighed.
"You know me too well."
Bai Li's answer came without thought.
"Maybe."
The single word hung between them.
