Smoke poured into her nostrils and throat like a greedy venomous snake, scorching every inch of her airways and bringing ripping pain.
Shen Yang was chained to a freezing radiator. Her wrists had been rubbed raw, leaving flesh and blood exposed. Thick blood ran down her arms and evaporated into wisps of white smoke the instant it touched the scorching floor. The windows of the rented room had been nailed shut with boards, and the door was locked from the outside. Flames devoured the table, chairs, and bedding, their crackling roar mingling with her ragged breaths to form a desperate funeral song.
“Cough, cough… Gu Yanze… Lin Weiwei…” Summoning the last of her strength, she rasped out the two names, her eyes brimming with overwhelming hatred.
