Liem drove straight to his sister Anh’s tailoring shop, the morning sun barely touching the rooftops. The streets of Little Saigon were still quiet, save for the early deliveries and the faint smell of roasting coffee beans. He found Anh already inside, meticulously stitching a traditional Vietnamese ao dai.
“Anh,” he said, his voice raw with exhaustion. He pointed to the passenger seat of the Camry, still parked outside. “You have to see this.”
Anh looked up, her brow furrowed, her fingers pausing mid-stitch. She walked out to the car, her gaze sweeping over the beat-up exterior. Liem opened the passenger door, bending to show her the mysterious copper wire.
“It runs from the stereo, under the floor,” he explained, his voice hushed. “This isn’t factory.”
Anh knelt, her sharp eyes inspecting the installation. She traced the wire with a cautious finger. “This is a custom job, Liem. And it’s not for a speaker.” She stood, brushing dust from her trousers, a thoughtful frown on her face.
“That’s not all,” Liem continued, his words tumbling out. He described the blood-orange streetlights, the vanishing signs, the hundreds of silent pedestrians, their eerie applause. He told her about the odometer ticking backward, the suffocating fog.
Anh listened, her expression growing tighter with each detail. She ran a hand through her hair, a gesture of deep worry. “Kevin,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Liem stopped. “What about Kevin?”
“He came by a few days ago,” Anh said, her voice low. “Asking for your old restaurant loan documents. And your health records from when you were so stressed after the bankruptcy.” She paused, her gaze locking with his. “He said it was to help you manage your finances, get you back on your feet.”
Liem felt a cold dread begin to spread through his stomach. “He’s been ‘helping’ me manage things this whole time, then.”
“He’s been attending meetings with Uncle Duc and the Nguyen Family Benevolent Council,” Anh revealed, her voice barely a whisper. “Without you. I heard whispers, Liem. Serious whispers.” Her eyes widened slightly. “About your… mental state.”
Liem’s jaw tightened. “My mental state? What are they saying?”
“They’re saying you’re still not right after the bankruptcy,” Anh said, her voice heavy with concern. “That you’re seeing things. Hearing things. Kevin has been very busy, Liem.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “He’s building a case against you.”
➡️ Read CHAPTER 6 to continue the story
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