The alley reeked of old rain and trash, the kind of scent that clung to your lungs no matter how short your stay. Feng Jiao Xue slowed her steps, her eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dim light that barely spilled between the narrow walls. Puddles reflected warped bits of the sky overhead, but the real focus lay farther down the passage.
A small body.
Slumped. Still.
Feng Jiao Xue's boots splashed through shallow water as she reached the figure. Mo Tianze followed, tense, his tail dragging low behind him. She crouched down and gently turned the child over.
It was the girl.
The same one who had tugged at her sleeve days ago. The one with dirt-smudged cheeks and fear in her voice.
Now her eyes stared blankly upward. Her lips were parted, as if her final breath had been interrupted by something worse than fear. There was no sign of a struggle. No blood. Just silence and stillness.
