Next to them, my discount supermarket sweater must look even cheaper and sadder than usual—which is the whole point. When I messaged Chanel today about helping out at this meeting, I’d asked her to dress as nicely as she could, and made the same request of Henry.
For my plan to work, I need to swallow my pride and really lean into the desperate-student-attempted-crime-just-to-survive look.
On the heels of Henry and Chanel, a woman who can only be Madam Yao, representative of the school board, makes her entrance. She doesn’t so much walk as glide into the conference room, her movements streamlined like a shark in water. Everything about her is elegant, unnervingly precise—from the string of delicate pearls arranged around her neck and her silver-streaked gravity-defying bob, to the hard angles and creases of her unsmiling face.
Even in heels, she’s shorter than I am, yet she manages to tower over everyone as she moves to take her seat at the head of the table, barely even reacting when Henry helps pull out the chair for her like the gentleman he is.
For a long time, she doesn’t speak. Just fixes each of us with her cold black gaze—first Andrew, then Chanel and Henry, who are both now standing close by my side, then finally...me.
Despite the hot air blasting through the vents at full force, my teeth chatter violently.
“Sun Yan, was it?” she says, breaking the silence at last. Her accent is part British, part Malaysian, and something else I can’t quite identify. All I know is that she looks and sounds like old money, and that she probably already hates me. “I believe we corresponded over email.”
“Yes.” I try to match her formal tone. “Thank you for your prompt response.”
She ignores me.
“And this...” She turns to Andrew, who immediately stiffens in his seat. “This is Andrew She? The student who reached out via the study application named Beijing Ghost, and offered money in exchange for the execution of the kidnapping?”
I shoot Andrew a quick, warning look.
He pouts, but nods once. “Y-yeah. That’s me.”
“Well.” Madam Yao sniffs. “I do wish we didn’t have to meet in these unfortunate circumstances. The school board is deeply disappointed in both of you, you know. It is difficult enough running one of the top schools in Beijing without having to deal with a major potential lawsuit. Peter’s parents are still very angry, as I’m sure you can imagine, and someone is going to have to take full responsibility. After all, Airington would never condone such lowly criminal behavior.”
I doubt it’s a coincidence that her eyes land on me. The easy target. The only one who isn’t paying full school fees, who doesn’t have the ability to donate entire school buildings. Despite Andrew’s confession, it’s still more convenient for the school if I’m guilty, rather than him.
I grit my teeth. If I’m honest, part of me had been hoping to settle all of this in a polite, nonconfrontational fashion, but I guess that’s off the table. Madam Yao can’t even look at me without looking down on me.