The man behind the table kept one hand on the remaining packets.
"Eleven adults," he replied. "We agreed on one packet for each adult you brought here. That’s what I’ve given you."
"Children take up space too," the driver argued. He glanced toward the minibus, where the last passengers were climbing down. "You can see how many I had to fit in."
The woman with the flashlight turned toward him.
"You told us you’d collect people who couldn’t walk this far," she said. "We gave you food to cover the trip."
"And I brought them, didn’t I?" The driver swept the packets closer with his fingers. "That vehicle needs fuel. You think I can keep running it through this for nothing?"
Zhiyi looked toward the passengers. Several had stopped settling their bags to listen. A man beside the minibus still held the open door, although there was no one left waiting to get down.
Near the pillar, the woman with the backpack slowly stood.
"You were already being paid to bring us here?" she asked.
The driver barely looked at her. "Sit down. We’re trying to sort something out."
"You took our food." She stepped away from her mother, keeping the backpack pressed against her chest. "You said that was the fare."
Her mother reached for the back of her shirt, but the daughter had already moved beyond her grasp.
"Then you made us pay again to get off the burning bus," the daughter continued. "What was that money for? You weren’t going anywhere until we handed everything over."
The woman with the flashlight lowered it slightly.
"The bus was burning?" she asked the driver. "You just told me it broke down."
"Everyone standing here got out," he replied, putting the packets into his pocket. "I don’t know what else you want from me."
"Not everyone got out with you," Jingwei said through the exterior speaker.
People near the pillars turned toward the mobile base. The driver looked across the apron as though he had forgotten they were there.
"People were climbing through a broken window," Jingwei continued. "We watched your men take their bags while the bus burned. Some of them were still trying to get out when you drove away."
The daughter looked toward the mobile base. Zhiyi saw recognition cross her face before she turned back to the driver.
"They saw what you did," the daughter said. Her voice shook now, although she hadn’t raised it. "You nearly left me there because I got out to move something out of your way."
"You’re here, aren’t you?" the driver replied. He took a step toward the minibus. "You paid to get here, and that’s where I brought you."
The man behind the table came around its edge and held out his hand.
"Give those packets back," he said. "You don’t get to charge us both and pretend you’ve done what we asked."
The driver pushed his hand away.
People who had been sitting farther inside the building began approaching. Zhiyi watched a woman step from behind one of the hanging sheets with a cup in her hand. She paused to listen, then set it beside a pillar and came closer.
"My husband was waiting at the collection point," the woman said. "Was he on that bus?"
The driver glanced toward his open door instead of answering.
Zhiyi saw him judge the distance. The daughter noticed too. She moved between him and the minibus, forcing him to stop.
"The people you left behind," the woman with the cup pressed. "What did they look like? My husband has a bad knee. He wouldn’t have been able to climb out of a window."
"I don’t know your husband," the driver snapped. He looked back at the daughter blocking his way. "Move. I’m not standing here answering for everyone who got on that bus."
The daughter held her ground, the backpack still between her arms.
"You can answer her before you leave," she told him.
He caught her upper arm and shoved her sideways. The man from the table grabbed his shirt before he could reach the minibus, and the driver swung at him.
Hanchuan’s hand tightened around Zhiyi’s.
Across the apron, the two men struck the side of the minibus together.
Passengers pulled away, gathering their bags and dragging children clear. The daughter stumbled back toward her mother while the woman with the flashlight shouted for someone to help.
A second man caught the driver from behind. The driver twisted, trying to pull free, but a third man joined them and seized his other arm.
Zhiyi watched his feet leave the ground as they hauled him away from the door. One of the packets slipped from his pocket and slid beneath the minibus. Nobody bent to retrieve it.
"Tell me who was still there," the woman whose husband was missing demanded, following them. "You must have seen them. Was there a man who couldn’t walk properly?"
The driver opened his mouth, but a fist struck him before he could answer.
Beside the pillar, the daughter crouched in front of her mother and covered the older woman’s eyes. Her mother caught her wrists, trying to pull her hands away, and the daughter bent closer to say something Zhiyi couldn’t hear.
Hanchuan shifted beside Zhiyi, bringing his shoulder within reach. He didn’t turn her away from the window. She leaned against him, feeling his hand settle over their joined fingers while the men dragged the driver beyond the table.
The woman whose husband was missing tried to follow, but someone stepped between her and the struggle. She moved around him, still asking the same question.
"Let him answer me," she pleaded. "I need to know whether my husband was there."
One of the men shoved the driver against the table. Its legs scraped across the concrete, and the open cloth bundle fell to the floor. Packets scattered beneath their feet.
The woman with the flashlight caught the nearest man’s arm.
"Wait," she told him, pulling hard enough to make him turn. "We need him to tell us where the bus is. Stop hitting him long enough for him to speak."
He shook her off.
The flashlight fell from her hand, its beam spinning across the concrete before coming to rest on the driver’s face.