Getting off a few stops early, I walked the rest of the way. No matter how tired I was, I could never tire of the vibrancy of this city. The crowds were thinner tonight, and those who braved it wore thick masks covering their faces. But vendors were still doing business on the streets, doling out fried dumplings, meats grilled on skewers, fried leek cakes, and cups of rice noodles in broth. I grabbed a bag of candied sweet potatoes cooked in sticky syrup, finishing it before I entered the 101 through the private entrance, then immediately crawled into bed.

I slept until noon, rising to take a long shower, pulling on designer blue jeans and a gray, long-sleeved shirt. I brewed a triple espresso for myself and was just firing up my MacFold when my door buzzer rang. Daiyu was framed on my door monitor. Aiyo. She buzzed again. “I know you’re home, Jason,” she said. “Xiao Huang told me.”

I obviously hadn’t been tipping Xiao Huang enough. At least, not as much as Daiyu tipped him. The doorman knew which resident was home even when the private entrance was used, as each of us had to give a palm scan to gain entry. I kept silent for a long moment, then voice-commanded the front door open.

Daiyu strolled in, a vision in tight black pants and a red sweater that hugged her form. She wore black heeled boots that resonated sharply against the concrete floor. Her long hair wasn’t swept back in a ponytail for once, making her look older to me. My heartbeat picked up, as it always did when I saw her—a combination of my fight-or-flight instinct kicking in mingled with my simple want for her. My pulse spiked every time. I hadn’t seen Daiyu in over two weeks.

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs in front of me. “Hey,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

One look in her light brown eyes—lit by some inner fire—told me I was in trouble.

She sat down at the dining table across from me. “I have my internship at Jin Corp today.”

“So shouldn’t you be there, then?” I took a sip of my espresso, but it tasted too bitter now, and lukewarm. “Isn’t your father waiting for you?”

“He’s been gone. Busy promoting the cheaper suits abroad.”

I could feel her gaze on me, never leaving my face. I pretended to fiddle with my Vox. “You don’t want me to meet him, do you?”

I couldn’t meet Jin. There was always the risk that he’d recognize me from the image he had been sending around with those thugs. Unlikely, though still a possibility. But Daiyu had made that easy for me.

Why?

Daiyu shrugged. “My father gets weird about boys I . . .” She broke off and swept a hand through her hair, flustered.

Boys she secretly rode airpeds with?