The press had the names in time for the evening news. Chan, leaving the hospital with one hand lightly bandaged and his tanned face untouched, checked his cell phone and saw he had fifteen calls. The ER nurse had told him that reporters were calling. You’re a hero, she had said, saving that girl like you did. The phone rang again, and he grabbed it.
“Is this Kang Yan Chan?” The woman said his name like a rhyming ditty.
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