Noah Steele supported Xiao Mei carefully as they walked toward the car.
She leaned against him, her face pale, her steps weak. Every few moments, her body tensed and she gagged softly, even though there was nothing left in her stomach. Each time it happened, Noah’s heart clenched, his hand tightening instinctively around her arm.
“Easy,” he murmured. “Slow down.”
Just as they were moving past a row of small street shops, a voice called out from behind them.
“Young man—yes, you. The one holding your wife.”
Noah turned, confused. There was no one else around. He followed the sound and saw a middle-aged woman sitting on a stool outside a tiny convenience store, watching them with sharp, concerned eyes.
“Me?” Noah asked uncertainly. “Ma’am, are you talking to me?”
“Yes, you,” the woman
