Wu Haoyu's POV:
The air in Yang Wei's cramped living room felt like it was choking me, thick with tension and the weight of words I couldn't unhear. Huang Yanyan is my daughter. King of Island B. The phrases rattled around in my skull, sharp and jagged, cutting through the fog of exhaustion that had settled over me after a sleepless night tearing through Wuhan to find her. My hand still gripped hers, her fingers warm and steady against mine, but my eyes were locked on the man standing across the room—Yang Wei, the so-called king who'd just flipped our world upside down.
