“Nothing, just...” I gesture to the deep blue sky above us, not a single winter cloud in sight. “It’s a nice day, that’s all.”

He glances up, then back at me, then up again, confusion shadowing his features. He looks young, maybe somewhere in his midtwenties. I wonder if he’s just graduated from college, how long he’s been living in Beijing, why he chose to work here. I hate that I’m only noticing these things now. “Uh, yeah, I guess it is...” He clears his throat. “Your year level?”

“Twelve.”

But I’m not the one who answers.

“Hi, Mr. Chen,” I greet as he draws closer to the gates, hoping he can’t detect the nervous wobble in my voice. He’s always been the teacher I respect the most—and the one I’m most afraid of disappointing.

Judging from his expression, the way his eyes dart to my bag and understanding flickers over them, he’s well up-to-date with the whole Alice Incident. Yet he doesn’t appear angry, exactly.

“Well, don’t just stand there like a stranger,” he says, waving me forward. “Come in. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“If I asked you about the main point of Macbeth now, what would you say?” Mr. Chen asks as we enter his office.

It’s quiet here. Clean. The bookshelves stacked but tidy, the walls almost hidden beneath rows of plaques and certificates from Harvard, Peking University, TED. I’m so busy staring I almost forget he’s asked me a question.

“Um...” I scramble to collect my thoughts. There’s a double meaning in there, I’m sure of it. “That...no action is without consequence? That ambition should not go unchecked?”

He nods, satisfied, and motions for me to take a seat. “Good, good. Just wanted to set my conscience at ease first—but so long as you’ve learned your lesson...”

“I have,” I say quickly. “Really.”

He nods again, then says, “I heard you’ll be leaving Airington after this semester. Have you decided which school to attend next year?”

“Not yet, no. There are certain...limitations I have to work through.”

Mr. Chen doesn’t look surprised. After my parents visited the school, I guess most people have realized I don’t come from one of the wealthier families.

“Well then.” He claps his hands together suddenly, startling me from my thoughts. “I might have just the solution.”

I stare at him. “You—you do?”

“Now, I probably should’ve checked with you beforehand about this but... A friend of mine, Dr. Alexandra Xiao, recently opened up her own international school in Chaoyang District. It’s much smaller than this, of course, and they don’t have student housing, so you’d have to figure out the accommodations. The environment isn’t the best either—there’s a fish market right next to campus, though Alex promises you get used to the smell after a while...” He laughs a little, and I get the sense I should be laughing too, except I can’t. I can’t do anything but grip the edge of the seat and pray he’s saying what I think he’s saying.