The detention rooms were located in a row of single-story buildings at the deepest end of the camp.
The corridor was narrow and long, the lighting dim. Numbers and names were posted on the iron doors lining both sides.
The unpleasant stench in the air grew stronger, mixed with the damp odor of mildew.
Liu Jianlin stopped before one of the iron doors, took out a key, and unlocked it.
The iron door scraped open with a piercing shriek, and an even stronger odor rushed out to meet them.
The smells of sweat, body odor, and some kind of perfume mingled together, so overpowering it was almost suffocating.
Yet Zhou Xiao'e seemed completely unaware of it. Her eyes locked onto the figure rising inside the room, suddenly lighting up as tears spilled from her eyes.
Andre Smith rose from a crude camp bed.
He was even taller than in the photograph, nearly six foot three. His dark brown hair was slightly disheveled, and his light blue eyes appeared especially profound beneath the ghastly white lights.
His features were sharply defined, with a high nose, deep-set eyes, prominent brow bones, a strong jawline, and neatly trimmed stubble.
Even dressed in the standard-issue gray tracksuit, he could not conceal the poise of a mature man.
The instant he saw Zhou Xiao'e, a flicker of delight flashed through his eyes. He strode forward and pulled her into his arms.
"Xiao'e! You came! I thought I'd never see you again!"
Zhou Xiao'e threw herself into his embrace, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
"Andre... I-I begged my cousin to save you... Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"
The man gently patted the back of her hand, his voice as tender as if he were soothing a child.
"Don't cry,