Wang Zheng sipped her tea as she watched the ocean beyond the window, the waves rising and falling beneath a sky the color of old steel.
She hadn't slept since her conversation with Hong Bo.
The quiet days only left her restless and exhausted.
It was as if that stillness drew out everything she had been holding inside.
The pregnancy probably didn't help, either. That much was true.
England was hardly the happiest place she had ever lived, and the view outside did little to change her mind. Everything seemed touched by the same subdued melancholy.
For someone accustomed to the noise, color, and restless energy of Beijing, the contrast was almost cruel.
She had once been surrounded by bright lights, crowded streets, unfamiliar scents, and the constant movement of thousands of people.
Now there was only a small English town.
Green hills.
Stone houses.
Rain.
And a sky that seemed determined to remain gray.
The sea was beautiful, certainly.
