The light in the first-floor lobby of the apartment building was hanging on by a thread, its dim yellow glow coated in a layer of dust. That thread seemed ready to snap at any moment, and the occasional flicker always put one on edge.
The moment the memories began, it was as if she were right back there—Mai Mingle could almost smell the dust in the apartment building, feel the uneven paint on the walls.
'Is memory really that powerful?'
Back then, she had just come downstairs with Hai Luwei and Fu Tailan, preparing to wait out the "renovation project" in the first-floor lobby until the apartment building let them leave again.
"After we got downstairs, Fu Tailan started looking everywhere for something he'd left on the first floor..."
At this, Mai Mingle furrowed her brow.
She knew she remembered what the boy was looking for, but she just couldn't seem to fish the memory out—like when a word is on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't recall it.
