“That man you checked into the hospital,” she said, “the one you tried to save in Liberty Square, had pneumonia.”

My hazy mind worked on that last word. Just like my mom had.

“Jason!” It was the first time she had used my English name, and it felt as if she had flung cold water in my face. “His death was exacerbated by the flu. An avian flu strain that the hospital had never seen before. Highly virulent. Arun was suspicious Patient Zero happened to be at Jin’s announcement. I did some research and connected him to Jin.” Her voice hitched, and I stared at her pinched face, rendered too pale against her dark purple hair. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Zhou, Jin released this flu strain—you might have caught it.”

Shit. A spasm of dry coughing seized me, wracked through my body until I felt limp and bruised.

“Zhou!” Lingyi sounded very far away. “We need to get help for you—”

I cut off our connection.

My mind was turning as slow as my ancient MacPlus on a bad day. But I knew one thing—no one could see me. I was highly contagious. If Jin’s avian flu strain could easily pass from person to person, we would have a pandemic on our hands.

My Vox began buzzing and flashing again. Ignoring it, I tried to call my doorman, Xiao Huang, by voice command but only managed a croak. I rolled toward the other bedside and swiped at the half-empty glass of water sitting there, miraculously not knocking it over. I poured the water into my mouth with a shaky hand, and most of it splashed over my face. But it was enough.

“Xiao Huang,” I said. The front door monitor buzzed, indicating he was on.

“I’m sick,” I rasped.

“So sorry to hear that, Mr., I mean, Jason.”

“Absolutely no visitors”—I drew a breath—“are allowed.”

“Yes, Jason. But—”

I cut him off too.

My Vox had stopped buzzing. I lay like deadweight in the plush bed, feeling as if I were a candle burning up from the inside. My body throbbed with pain. I closed my eyes. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to breathe. Wishing the aches would go away. I would probably die like this.

And in the end, I couldn’t even save that sick wretch in Liberty Square.

•  •  •

I became delirious after that.

I dreamed of Daiyu.

She came to nurse me, wiping a cold cloth across my brow, against my chest; murmuring softly as she coaxed me to drink water. She was in suit, and I tried to grab for her gloved hand. I’m sorry, I wanted to say. Sorry. I didn’t know what I was apologizing for.

Everything.

She swept my hair back from my forehead, damp with sweat, then held my hand. Her glove was cool against my hot skin.

It was morning.