Song Rongquan didn't answer.
Guiying let the silence sit for a second. "Go get the kids. Food's coming."
Guiying knocked on the door across the hall.
It opened almost immediately.
She was in her mid-twenties, hair pulled back, a worn jacket over a plain shirt. Tattoos ran down both arms and up her neck, not the kind you get for decoration. A small one curved under her left ear. Another disappeared into her collar. Her eyes took him in before she spoke.
"You're with the organisation?" she said.
"Arang?" Guiying asked.
"Yeah." She leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. "He actually let you inside?"
"Eventually."
She glanced toward the apartment across the hall, then back at him. "How bad is it?"
"Bad enough," Guiying said. "Food's on the way. I need someone on this floor until the social worker shows up. The kids know you..so can you.."
