"Especially then." His voice was fierce now, almost angry, "Because you don't get to give up. Not on yourself. Not when there are people who...." He stopped, the words caught in his throat.
"Who what?" she prompted softly.
"Who needs you," he finished, but they both knew that wasn't quite what he'd meant to say.
Tang Fei reached up and covered his hand with hers, their fingers intertwining against her cheek.
"The woman in the story needed someone too," she said quietly. "But she also needed permission to let go. Sometimes the cruelest thing we can do to dying people is refuse to release them. Force them to keep fighting when they're so tired..."
"Are you tired?" The question came out sharp, almost desperate.
"No." She smiled, and it was genuine. "I'm not tired, Ting Cheng. I'm just... thinking. About stories and life and borrowed time."
She pulled his hand down but didn't release it, holding it in her lap instead.
