The phone screen lit up. Jin looked at the message. He typed three words. He deleted them. He typed two.
Jin said: "Cannot come."
He sent it. He turned off the screen. He put the phone in his pocket.
His mother called from the kitchen. The water was running. The dishes clattered.
Mother said: "Who was that."
Jin said: "Friend."
Mother said: "You are leaving."
Jin said: "Yes."
He put on his shoes. Black laces. Tight knots. He opened the door. The air was cool. It smelled like rain.
He walked. Not toward the station. Toward the Grey District.
The streetlights flickered. The pavement was cracked. Weeds grew in the gaps. Jin stepped over them. He did not look down. He looked ahead.
He passed the convenience store. The sign buzzed. The light was bright. It stopped at the district line.
The Grey District was darker. The buildings were older. Brick instead of concrete. Windows boarded up.
Jin stopped at the corner. He looked at the map in his head. He had studied it for weeks.
