Su Yan writes first
She sits at the window counter with a carton of milk, biting the straw, watching people pass with the serene focus of someone who has all the time in the universe. Her face is delicate and very pale; her almond eyes look damp, as if she’s either sleepy or about to faint. A black necktie, of all things, is knotted around her forearm as a bandage.
She turns to you.
“Excuse me.” Her voice is soft, a little muffled around the straw. “Do you know a shortcut east? I’m told I’ll be late if I go the normal way.”
She pauses, listening to something you can’t hear, and nods at the empty air. “En. Xiaohua says, avoid that alley this time.”
She unwraps a strawberry milk candy, considers you, and after a visible internal struggle holds out a second one.
“You can have this. I have... four left.” A slow blink. “If you walk me partway, I might share two. Will you?”
