“How about we just agree it was lost in transit?” Cyrus says, which is about as diplomatic as we’re getting, even if I’m still certain he’s wrong. He slides the key smoothly into the lock and sunlight bursts through the door. The open air is perfect, layered with flavors I hadn’t noticed before we entered the teahouse, like the crisp aroma of bamboo leaves and the damp scent of the soil.

Wang Laoshi is waiting for us outside. My heart falls. We must be so far behind that everyone has already left.

“We’re last?” I ask.

Wang Laoshi shakes his head. “No, you’re first.”

“Wait. Seriously?” As a rule, I don’t like to gape—it’s never a graceful look. But I’m pretty sure I’m gaping at him now.

“Of course. I’m always serious,” Wang Laoshi says with a stern frown, which is the best kind of confirmation he could offer. “I’ll be letting Dr. Linda Shen know you’re today’s winners. I’m sure she’ll be pleased—she was the one who chose the teahouse for this activity.”

Now that I think about it, I do recall my mother mentioning how much my aunt loves her tea.

“See? I told you,” Cyrus says, nudging me with his elbow and forcing my attention back to him. “Even if one of us lost the key and caused some unexpected delays—”

“You,” I cut in. I mean to say it with vehemence, but my anger evaporates before it can boil, the euphoria of our victory plating everything in rose gold. It’s been so, so long since I last won anything. Since I didn’t feel like I was struggling alone at the very bottom. “You lost the key.”

“We would’ve been way ahead of the others with the clues,” Cyrus goes on, grinning at me. “What can I say? We make a good team.”

I’m not totally convinced that we make a good team—I just feel like good teamwork shouldn’t involve such frequent thoughts of murder—but with our first win secured, everything is working out according to plan. And if I’m being fair, I have to give Cyrus credit for getting us here.

So I bite down on my tongue and nod. I can put up with this a little longer if it means getting my revenge and getting into my aunt’s good graces, I tell myself. I can.

After all, I’ve put up with more in the past for less.

CHAPTER NINE

That night, while Daisy’s showering, I curl up in my blankets and call my parents.

“Hello? Baobei?”