The old man shook his head. “Let’s wait and see if Colonel Chung is successful. If not, they’ll have taken her to the camp by the weekend. In which case I’ll try and arrange visits. But that’s all we can do. It’s out of my hands.”

When Lian got to her dorm building, the other girls were sitting on beds, talking. The chatter stopped when she came in. It was a long time before she stopped crying and could answer their questions.

LIAN HAD PROMISED Meirong she would warn Wendian, but it wasn’t easy getting her on her own. The barracks were cramped, opportunities for privacy rare, and Wendian always seemed to be part of a group. It was as though she was avoiding Lian, ignoring her pleading looks.

But Friday finally came, a half day when the students were free to roam Shangtan. Lian caught sight of Wendian’s long ponytail bobbing along the street and followed her to a bookstore, the students’ most popular destination. Wendian paused by the entrance and when she saw Lian, she moved along to the next store. They fell into step and continued on toward the market square.

“Meirong has a message for you,” Lian said, looking around before she spoke. “She says you should all lie low for a while.”

“It was Mr. Lee who gave her away to the Juntong,” Wendian said. “I’m sure of it. Everyone knows the director of student services is usually a government spy.”

“I didn’t know that,” Lian said.

“Oh, Lian, there are always spies.” Wendian sounded sad rather than scornful. “There are even Chinese spying for the Japanese, did you know? They scout out towns, draw maps, identify targets for bombing raids. What else did Meirong say?”

“That you’re not to worry,” Lian said, “that she won’t give you away.”

“She’d die sooner than give us up.” Wendian was silent for a moment. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I wish I’d gone to see her, too, Lian, but I was afraid.”

“It could’ve been risky,” Lian said. “You were right not to go.”

“We can fight back.” Wendian wiped her eyes with a sleeve. “We’re not helpless.” She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and walked away before Lian could reply.

But Lian did feel helpless. There had to be a way to get Meirong out of that jail, out of the reeducation camp. Could she plead with Mr. Lee? Did he have enough influence? What about Cook Tam? But she wasn’t supposed to know about Cook Tam.

Perhaps if Meirong was willing to say she’d been naïve, led by Jenmei, the authorities would let her go. Meirong could be so stubborn, but if she could just see Meirong one more time, talk some sense into her, ask her to lie about her ideals. Give them up just long enough to persuade her captors.