Chapter 3: Ashes to Echoes

The fire devoured memories in alphabetical order.

Jiang Se watched through Lu Chen's phone screen as flames licked her collection of rare ambergris—$28,000 per ounce, now bubbling into toxic smoke. Next went the sandalwood harvested from century-old temples. The scent organ's brass pipes melted into golden tears.

"Move." Lu Chen dragged her toward his idling SUV. "Unless you want to explain why a recluse perfumer keeps uranium-grade security cameras."

She wrenched free. "My life's work is burning!"

"And my sister's killer is roasting marshmallows over it." He shoved her into the passenger seat. "Priorities."

The SUV fishtailed down the mountain road. Jiang Se gripped the door handle, watching orange reflections dance in the side mirror. Each curve brought another memory crashing down—the rose garden she'd cultivated since university, the underground vault containing every scent diary since age twelve, the dried jasmine wreath Qin Shu had...

"Stop." Her voice cracked. "There's a service road behind the—"

Tires screeched. Lu Chen yanked the wheel hard left. The SUV plowed through a thicket of wild rhododendrons, branches screeching against metal. When they emerged onto a hidden overlook, her studio's collapse became a grotesque ballet.

Flames spiraled skyward in chromatic rings—cyan at the base, bleeding into arterial crimson at the apex. The shadow figure reappeared, backlit by inferno, arms raised in a conductor's flourish.

Jiang Se lunged for the door. "He's still there!"

Lu Chen grabbed her hoodie strings like leashes. "Look closer."

The figure's outline quivered at the edges. Through binoculars, Jiang Se saw flames passing through its torso, illuminating skeletal structures that glowed like neon coral.

"Hologram." Lu Chen's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Your boyfriend's upgraded from arsonist to ghost."

A deafening crack split the air. The scent organ exploded, launching a brass pipe through the hologram's chest. For one heart-stopping moment, the projectile seemed to hover within Jiang Se's reach—until it plunged into the ravine below, taking her past with it.

Something warm trickled down her chin. She touched her face, expecting blood. Tears.

Lu Chen shoved a handkerchief into her hand. "If we're lucky, that pipe pierced its projector."

"If we're lucky," she whispered, "I'll wake up from this nightmare."

The hologram dissolved into smoke shaped like laughing faces.

Interlude: Ten Years Earlier

The greenhouse hummed with stolen electricity. Sixteen-year-old Jiang Se balanced on a wooden crate, nose pressed to the corpse flower's burgundy-spotted spathe.

"Anything?" Qin Shu's voice echoed from somewhere among the orchids.

"Rotting meat." She gagged. "With a hint of..."

A hand clamped over her eyes. "Breathe deeper."

His palm smelled of antiseptic and instability. The corpse flower's stench mutated—burnt hair, then wet soil after first rain.

"Your fear's distorting the scent profile." Qin Shu's lips brushed her ear. "Again."

Jiang Se inhaled.

Death transformed into something tender—vanilla steamed milk, her mother's favorite bedtime aroma before the cancer took her speech.

"There." Qin Shu released her. "Now bottle it."

"But this isn't scientific!"

He pressed a vial to her throat. "The best perfumes are brewed from lies."

Present

Dawn found them at a roadside diner twenty miles from the devastation. Lu Chen nursed black coffee while Jiang Se picked at congealed eggs.

"Let's establish rules." He slid a document across the vinyl booth. "I get full access to your financials, client lists, and that creepy flower graveyard you call a greenhouse."

She stared at the custody agreement. "You're joking."

"Dead sister. Arson. Mysterious ex-boyfriend who's either a ghost or a tech wizard." He stirred sugar into his fourth cup. "This makes you either victim or accomplice. Your choice."

The diner's specials board flickered. For half a heartbeat, the holographic letters rearranged: HE KNOWS.

Jiang Se's butter knife clattered. When she looked again, it advertised blueberry pancakes.

"Fine." She scrawled a signature. "But we start at the greenhouse."

Lu Chen's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Knew you'd see reason."

The waitress approached with a pot of coffee. Jiang Se caught her wrist. "Who changed the specials board?"

"Changed?" The woman blinked at the static display. "Honey, that thing's been broken since the storm."

Greenhouse, 9:03 AM

The corpse flower's stench hit them like a wall. Lu Chen gagged. "Smells like a seafood buffet's dumpster."

"Perfection." Jiang Se inhaled deeply. "No one comes near here."

She led him past mutant orchids with teeth-like petals. The GPS coordinates from the credit card glowed on her phone—directly under the main cultivation table.

Lu Chen crouched, brushing aside fertilizer bags. "Bring the shovel."

"Wait." She touched his shoulder. "Qin Shu booby-trapped everything."

"Charming." He produced a switchblade. "Stay back."

The floorboards creaked. Jiang Se's pulse echoed in her ears. She'd buried memories here along with failed experiments—the lilies that induced sleep paralysis, the roses that caused auditory hallucinations, the nightshade hybrid that...

Click.

A hidden compartment sprang open. Dust motes danced in the sudden sunlight, revealing a child's pink backpack.

Lu Chen lifted it gingerly. "Yours?"

"Never seen it before." The zipper stuck. When it finally gave, three objects tumbled out:

A Barbie doll missing its left arm. A prescription bottle labeled Li Mingyu - Antipsychotics. A polaroid of Qin Shu smiling beside a girl who wasn't Jiang Se.

The girl wore Jiang Se's face.

Interlude: Seven Years Earlier

"Again!" Qin Shu's scalpel glinted under greenhouse lights.

Jiang Se adjusted her goggles. "This is insane."

"Science requires sacrifice." He pressed the blade to her forearm. "Hold still."

The cut stung. Blood welled, black under UV lamps. Qin Shu collected a drop onto a glass slide.

"Now smell." He uncorked a vial.

The aroma ambushed her—fresh asphalt and birthday candles. Her knees buckled. "What...?"

"Your DNA profile." He caught her. "I'll distill it into perfume. Our forever scent."

The corpse flower bloomed outside, unnoticed.

Present

Jiang Se's reflection stared back from the polaroid. Same oval face. Same stubborn chin. But this girl wore her hair in braids secured by butterfly clips.

"Who's Li Mingyu?" Lu Chen shook the prescription bottle. Empty.

"I don't—" The greenhouse door slammed.

Wind screamed through broken panes. The corpse flower's stench mutated—burning plastic, then lavender, then the exact formula of Midnight Sonata.

Lu Chen drew his gun. "Show yourself!"

A giggle rippled through the orchids. High-pitched. Juvenile.

Jiang Se's vision doubled. The polaroid girl materialized between two Venus flytraps, wearing the backpack. Her braids swung, butterfly clips catching sunlight that shouldn't penetrate storm clouds.

"JieJie forgot again." The girl's smile showed too many teeth. "But Mingyu remembers everything."

Lu Chen fired.

The bullet passed through her forehead, embedding in the greenhouse wall. The girl kept smiling.

"Hologram." Jiang Se grabbed Lu Chen's arm. "Like the arsonist."

Mingyu skipped toward them. "Qin Shu-gege says hello."

Static engulfed the greenhouse. When it cleared, the girl stood inches from Jiang Se, breath smelling of strawberry gum and formaldehyde.

"You made me disappear." Her holographic finger phased through Jiang Se's chest. "Now I'll return the favor."

The SUV's car alarm wailed outside. Mingyu dissolved into pixels, leaving the prescription bottle at Jiang Se's feet.

Lu Chen picked it up. "Looks like we've found our next victim."

The label now bore Jiang Se's name.