“I’ll send it now.” A moment of silence, just clicking on the mouse. “Sent.”

“I’ll have it done by morning.”

Liu Xiaokai made another couple clicks. His hand reached down.

Grasped the flash drive.

Pulled.

He knew they had been there, maybe knew they were still in there—he was playing games with them—

“Oh—Liu Baiyan.”

A shudder scraped its way through Weiran’s body. Xiaokai was speaking to Xingyu’s father, to the man who was undoubtedly a part of everything Weiran feared and hated. He was going to say something, he was going to tell Liu Baiyan, they would be caught—

“I’d like to discuss Chen Jun’s event with you or someone who knows him as well. Please arrange an appointment for me tomorrow.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Remember to take your medicine.”

And he hung up.

And there was a light tap on the table, some scribbling sounds.

And then he walked away.

“Meimei, let’s head out together.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It must be difficult to get a taxi this late—I’ll drop you off on my way.”

“Oh, sir, your door is still unlocked.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Then silence.

Slowly, Xingyu and Weiran came out from under the table together and stood up with shaking legs.

“Weiran.” Xingyu was hoarse. He pointed—on the desk, sitting right at the center: the flash drive and a key, on top of a sticky note that said in neat English, “Lock up when you leave.”

Weiran really did forget how to breathe.

“Believe me now?” asked Xingyu.

6

THE PHONE

NOTHING ABOUT IT made sense.

Weiran knew it, Xingyu knew it. Even if Xiao-Xiao wasn’t a part of the List, there was really no reason why he would just…protect the both of them like that. If he had simply come in and sent the email, or if he’d just come in and called his father—if he hadn’t reached down and taken the flash drive out, maybe even ejected it; if he hadn’t left the key on the table; if he hadn’t left the note—then it would make sense. Xiao-Xiao was the good son, the loyal son, the one who listened and followed in the family business, and Xingyu had sneaked into his office. As soon as Xiao-Xiao knew that he had done so—and that he had brought someone with him, no less—he should have said something.

But he didn’t.

Xingyu and Weiran sat in the car for a long time, Weiran’s hands clenching and un-clenching at the wheel, both of them absolutely silent. Then:

“Maybe it’s a trick.”

Xingyu looked at him in disbelief. “A trick? Are you serious?”