Trying to save the sick mei man might have been a huge risk. But I didn’t regret my decision. Seeing him had brought back all the helplessness I had felt when my mom was sick, all the rage. I couldn’t do nothing again. Like I’d done my whole life. I had to at least try this time.

I finally pulled myself upright when I began to feel dizzy, closing my eyes and shutting out the images of my city in hazy neon until I felt more steady. I climbed down the wall, the bot belaying my rope noiselessly as I descended at a breakneck speed, enjoying the exhilaration, like flying. I showered in my ridiculously grandiose bathroom, the only light provided by the glow of Italian glass tiles in sea greens and blues, then tumbled into my large bed, still damp and naked.

I slept a dreamless, heavy sleep, until the buzz of the door monitor woke me.

“Mr. . . .” Xiao Huang cleared his throat. “Good morning, Jason. Miss Jin is here to see you.”

I groaned and stuffed my face into one of my large pillows. What time was it? I peered with one eye at the chrome clock set in the wall above my kitchen counter: 9:53.

“Tell Miss Jin—”

“Er, she’s on her way up,” he said.

“Ha!” I croaked. “Thank you, Xiao Huang.”

I rolled gracelessly out of bed, then stood at the window, caught again by the city view. It was a particularly bad morning, and an impenetrable brown smog blanketed Taipei. These were the days when you felt the pollution most in your throat and nose, scratching and abrasive, when it felt as if you had a film of dust over your eyes. I rubbed my own eyes, as if just the memory irritated them, then ran a hand through my hair.

My door monitor buzzed again. “Jason? It’s me.”

“Daiyu,” I said, my voice thick. “Give me a second. Please.” Politeness was something I wasn’t used to after living on the streets for so long. There was no need for “please” and “thank you” when you were starving, or getting mugged or beaten.

I went into my dressing room, paneled in rosewood, even more extravagant than my bathroom, filled with a wardrobe worth more than most meis could ever earn in multiple lifetimes, and pulled on a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans without thinking. Victor would probably be pissed if he knew I was wearing the same few outfits all the time, considering how much he had spent. Hopefully, he’d never find out. I skidded into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and washed my face before opening the front door with a voice command.

I heard the click of Daiyu’s footsteps as she entered the apartment.

“I woke you,” she said.