The setting sun looked like a piece of red-hot iron as it slowly sank behind the barren hills.
Qing Dai knelt before the new grave, her knees pressing into the gravel until she could no longer feel them. Before her was a mound of yellow earth, without a headstone or any marker. In a few days, the wind would flatten it, and it would blend into the surrounding wasteland. No one would ever know there was someone buried beneath it.
