The rainy season in Shanghai is sticky and thick, as if the whole city has been soaked in damp cotton wool. Lin Yao stood on the observation deck by the Huangpu River. Her fingertips traced the condensed water vapor on the railing. A cool feeling crawled up her fingertips, but it could not dispel the warm and stuffy fire in her chest. It has been three months and seven days since Jiang Yan disappeared. To be precise, it was 2216 hours - she recorded this number in the top column of the memo on her mobile phone. The first thing she did when she opened her eyes every morning was to update it, as if she was clocking in for a journey with no end.
