In the dead of night, Mei stood at the edge of the riverbank, the cold wind biting at her face. The sky was a vast, black expanse, punctuated only by the dull shimmer of stars obscured by a haze of smog. The city behind her, once alive with the hum of people and lights, now seemed distant, a forgotten memory. Her breath clouded the air in front of her, disappearing as quickly as it formed, like the ghosts of the past she tried so desperately to outrun.

She crouched down, her fingers brushing the surface of the water. The river was dark, its depths unknowable, swirling with secrets. This was where it had happened—where he had disappeared, swallowed by the same waters that now lapped at her shoes.

His name had been Min, but even saying it now felt like an act of defiance. The government had erased him, their reach long and merciless. They had called him a traitor, a dissident, a danger to the Party. But to Mei, he had been the only real thing in a world of shadows.

"Mei," a voice called softly from behind. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. Li Yuan, the man tasked with watching her, ensuring her silence. His presence was constant, an unspoken reminder that freedom was an illusion, just like everything else in her life.

"I was just thinking about him," she said, her voice barely louder than the wind.

Li Yuan approached, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. He paused beside her, his face unreadable in the dim light. "It’s dangerous to think about the past."

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She didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the river. The truth was, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every night since Min’s disappearance, the same thought circled in her mind like a relentless tide: What if I had warned him?

"Why are you here?" she asked, finally standing up and facing him. "Are you afraid I'll jump?"

Li Yuan’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes—something that flickered just for a moment, before he buried it again beneath layers of duty and control. "You know they’re watching you," he said, his voice low. "They want to make sure you don’t forget your place."

Mei smiled, but it was a hollow thing, more reflex than emotion. "And what place is that? A loyal citizen, mourning her brother, or the woman who let him die?"

Li Yuan’s silence was answer enough.

The city stretched out behind them, a grid of neon lights and dark alleyways, a labyrinth that swallowed people whole. Mei had once thought she could navigate it, make sense of its rules and power structures, but now it felt like she was trapped, her every move anticipated, controlled.

She looked at Li Yuan, studying his face. They had grown up in the same district, shared the same classrooms, the same teachers who had drilled into them the importance of loyalty to the Party. And yet here they were, on opposite sides of an invisible line.

"You were his friend," she said quietly. "Don’t you ever wonder what really happened to him?"

Li Yuan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Mei thought he might finally say something—something real, something true. But then the mask slipped back into place, and he shook his head. "What happened is what always happens to people like him. He made a choice. And now he’s gone."

Mei turned away, staring out at the water again. She felt the weight of his words settle into her bones, cold and heavy. People like him. People who dared to question, to resist. They were nothing more than ripples in the river, quickly erased, quickly forgotten.