Lian shrank deeper into the shadows, heart pounding. Jenmei ran from the garden, wiping a sleeve across her eyes. At the brick path, she paused to straighten up, then strode into the forecourt, self-assurance in the swing of her hips. She called out to the gatekeeper, a cheerful greeting. No one could have imagined she’d been in tears a moment ago.

In the courtyard garden, behind the shrubbery, light moved. Sparrow, holding a lamp. The glow vanished in the direction of the laundry room, and Lian’s heartbeat slowed to a normal pace. So much of what she’d overheard worried her. Jenmei had been angry at Sparrow, hostile and accusing.

But of more immediate concern, Jenmei had said Shao was attending meetings. In a place as confined as the factory campus, how could Mr. Lee not know this already? Was he testing Lian, waiting to see how long it would take for her to report this?

Unbidden, her mind conjured their figures in the bunkhouse again. Candlelight caressing bodies. Lips touching.

MR. LEE HAD TAKEN to dropping by the newspaper office every day. Although the students working on the paper were pleased he was so interested in Minghua 123 News, Lian knew his visits were to check on her. One day, as soon as she moved away from the table to leave, so did he, nodding at the student he had been chatting with, giving another a friendly slap on the back. He followed her out the door, staying a few feet behind until they were near the center of the yard, no one close by.

“I’m glad you took my suggestion of spending more time with the school newspaper,” Mr. Lee said. “That makes it easier for you to keep an eye on things. And are you? Keeping an eye on things?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, still unsure of what to do. He turned toward the bunkhouses.

“Mr. Lee, wait,” she said, and he stopped to let her catch up. “What happens to Shao if he gets involved with the Communist Students Club?”

“Nothing. His family’s too important.” His voice was kind. “We would take Wang Jenmei out of school, that’s all. She’s the bad influence, not Liu Shaoming.”

“Would she go to one of those reeducation camps?” she said.

“Perhaps,” he said, his eyes intent. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Liu Shaoming has been attending her meetings,” she said. Her words came out in a rush. “I wasn’t sure until last night. And I don’t know how often he’s been.”