The door opened again.
Ren Hao didn't look up right away, still staring at the ceiling and still shaking.
Haiyan's quiet presence beside him the only thing keeping the room from tipping into something unbearable.
Then he turned his head, and the air left his lungs.
He knew that face.
He'd seen it on Shen Zihao's phone and on his private laptop, pulled up in the dark when Shen Zihao thought no one was watching. He'd heard that name spoken in a tone that made his skin crawl often enough to understand exactly what it meant, what role had been carved out for him without his consent, and why his life had unraveled the way it had.
The person standing in his doorway was the reason Shen Zihao had ever looked at him at all.
Something detonated behind his ribs, and the word tore out raw and ugly: "You."
