Ning chose the institute’s main staircase for her next walk. It was wide, with a landing after each flight and a window that opened toward the courtyard. Qinghe waited near the first landing with a cup of water. Yan stood at the bottom.
“I want to reach the second floor,” Ning said. “If I get there and need to stop, I stop.”
Yan nodded. He started up behind her, then stopped when she turned and held up a hand.
“I want to do this without a shadow at my shoulder.”
“All right.”
He stayed on the lower landing. Qinghe followed Ning at a few steps’ distance, close enough to help if asked but not touching her. Ning climbed slowly. Her breathing grew rough near the top of the first flight. She kept moving until she reached the second-floor landing, then sat on the bench.
Qinghe offered the cup. Ning drank and waited for the tightness to ease. It took several minutes. She did not push to finish the staircase that day.
“Do you want to continue?” Qinghe asked.
