The cold stone of the prison wall presses against my back as I sit on the straw mattress. Blood from yesterday's fight has dried on my knuckles, but I barely feel it. All I can see is her face—the young performer who smiled like a songbird, now lying broken in an alley. Another casualty of Chang'an's beautiful cruelty.

Footsteps echo in the corridor. Not the heavy tread of guards, but lighter, hesitant steps. My heart quickens despite myself. When the figure stops outside my cell, I see the outline of scholar's robes beneath the traveling cloak.

It's him.

The lock turns with a soft click. Zhuge Jin steps inside, his face shadowed by the hood, but I'd know that silhouette anywhere—it's my own reflection, after all. We were born from the same womb, yet chose paths that led us to opposite sides of Chang'an's highest walls.

"You shouldn't be here," I say, my voice rough from disuse and anger.

He flinches as if I've struck him. "I had to come. They're going to execute you tomorrow."

"So you've come to watch your wayward brother die?" My words are sharper than I intend, but the image of that young performer's broken body won't leave my mind.

"I've come to get you out." He pulls back his hood, revealing the face that mirrors my own—though his carries the weight of worry and exhaustion I don't share. "There's a horse waiting outside the city. You must leave tonight."

The moonlight through the high window catches on his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes and the missing jade ornaments from his scholar's belt. This isn't the brother who wrote me angry letters about disgracing the family name by performing. This is someone who's been carrying burdens I can't imagine.

"And what about you?" I ask, standing slowly. "If they discover you helped me escape..."

"They won't. I've taken precautions." He avoids my gaze, busying himself with the cell door. "You need to go. Now."

But I don't move. Instead, I take a step closer to the brother I haven't truly seen in years—the brother who shares my face but not my life. Questions flood my mind, but one rises above them all, born from the anger and grief and longing that have haunted me since we chose different paths.

"Did you ever miss me?"