At 2:17 a.m., in a cheap apartment on Sukhumvit Road in Bangkok, Lin Hao stared at his phone screen, his knuckles white from gripping it so tightly. The screen showed a social media post editor, the cursor blinking in the text box. He had been sitting there for two hours. Motorbikes roared past outside in waves. Hot, damp air crept through the gap in the air conditioner, carrying a sickly sweet smell of decay. This city never slept, just like the images in his mind: Su Wan smiling, Su Wan crying, and the blood seeping from the corner of her mouth when she was slapped in the video. He took a deep breath and began to type.
