The third floor was too quiet.
Shen Yifei moved ahead of me, spear angled low, her steps careful and light. Jiang Roulan kept to the left, hugging the storefronts, her tonfa in hand. Tang Wei brought up the rear. She kept her pistol holstered, one hand on the machete strapped across her back. No one spoke.
The layout was worse than I remembered. Metal trash bins were overturned. Paper signs rotted off display windows. Shelves stripped clean. But nothing about it looked rushed. No panic. Just… emptied. Like someone had erased the life from the place, piece by piece.
"Don't see any bodies," Tang Wei said, voice just above a breath.
I didn't answer. Neither did the others.
It wasn't a question. It was her version of a warning.
A children's shoe sat at the entrance of a store called "Little Tails." The size was too small for anyone over five. No blood. Just placed there. Facing outward.
Shen Yifei froze at the corridor's bend and held up one hand.
We stopped instantly.
