She had rinsed her eyes and eyelids until they’re bloodshot and teary. Looking up at the mirror, no trace of that reddish-brown paint is left.

Yet something still felt amiss.

She was about to leave when the incense smoke curling around her ears drifted away.

For a second she thought she saw dried blood. But no, it’s just a darker patch on Ten’s eartips. The dye must have come off.