Page 93 of If You Could See the Sun
A dark vein jumps in Andrew’s forehead. He’s sweating profusely—from the heat or nerves, I can’t tell. Maybe both.
Either way, I seize the chance to keep talking. “Look, Andrew, I’m short on time, so I’ll just spell it out for you. If you take this to court, or sue me—if youdare try to absolve yourself of this crime—you’re most definitely going to lose. You’re also definitely going to waste time and money and resources—”
“So would you,” Andrew interjects.
“I know,” I say, keeping my voice level. “But I don’t have an important company position to worry about. If this case were to blow up, and news were to get out that you and your father hired someone to kidnap a child just to secure a promotion... Well, it wouldn’t look too good for you, would it?”
“No.” He shakes his head. More sweat forms along his hairline, trickles down his cheek. “No.No.That’s not...” He trails off and stills, as if something’s just occurred to him. Looks up at me. “You had other clients for Beijing Ghost, didn’t you?”
“What of it?”
“They’d be able to prove you’re lying. Beijing Ghost wasn’t a study app—it was acriminal app.With them backing me up—”
“Do you know how much dirt I have on the kids in our year level?” I raise my eyebrows.Did you seriously think I wouldn’t have thought of this beforehand?I add in my head. “Even if I didn’t blackmail them, do you expect them to willingly reveal to the school or the police the sort of things they hired me for?”
His nostrils flare, lips setting into a sullen line. I’m right, and he knows it. He looks so defeated, so helpless, with his massive frame hunched over the low table, that for a moment I almost feel bad for him.
Almost.
“Fine, fine, fine. You’ve made your point,” he finally mutters. “What do you want me to do?”
I try not to show how weird this new dynamic is to me;I’malways the one doing what others want, the one desperate enough to agree to pretty much anything.
“Just go along with my story,” I instruct. My mouth feels dry all of a sudden, likely in anticipation of what’s to come. I wish I’d remembered to bring a bottle of water. There were so many in the back of Henry’s company car.“A representative from the school board will be meeting with us soon.”
He frowns. “Soon?How soon?”
I grab my phone and fire a quick text at Henry:All done.He responds immediately with a thumbs-up. “As in...now.”
Right on cue, the conference room doors swing wide open, and Henry and Chanel stride in like characters from a movie scene. Seriously. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were moving toward me in slow motion, and dramatic music started swelling in the background. Since school has technically ended by this hour, they’re both wearing their own clothes, instead of uniforms. Henry looks distractingly attractive, dressed in the kind of crisp, tailored black suit that wouldn’t make him seem out of place on Wall Street, and Chanel has on this elaborate, shoulder-padded blazer with gold buttons.
Next to them, my discount supermarket sweater must look even cheaper and sadder than usual—which is the whole point. When I messaged Chanel today about helping out at this meeting, I’d asked her to dress as nicely as she could, and made the same request of Henry.
For my plan to work, I need to swallow my pride and really lean into the desperate-student-attempted-crime-just-to-survive look.
On the heels of Henry and Chanel, a woman who can only be Madam Yao, representative of the school board, makes her entrance. She doesn’t so much walk asglideinto the conference room, her movements streamlined like a shark in water. Everything about her is elegant, unnervingly precise—from the string of delicate pearls arranged around her neck and her silver-streaked gravity-defying bob, to the hard angles and creases of her unsmiling face.
Even in heels, she’s shorter than I am, yet she manages to tower over everyone as she moves to take her seat at the head of the table, barely even reacting when Henry helps pull out the chair for her like the gentleman he is.
For a long time, she doesn’t speak. Just fixes each of us with her cold black gaze—first Andrew, then Chanel and Henry, who are both now standing close by my side, then finally...me.
Despite the hot air blasting through the vents at full force, my teeth chatter violently.
“Sun Yan, was it?” she says, breaking the silence at last. Her accent is part British, part Malaysian, and something else I can’t quite identify. All I know is that she looks and sounds like old money, and that she probably already hates me. “I believe we corresponded over email.”
“Yes.” I try to match her formal tone. “Thank you for your prompt response.”
She ignores me.
“And this...” She turns to Andrew, who immediately stiffens in his seat. “This is Andrew She? The student who reached out via the study application named Beijing Ghost, and offered money in exchange for the execution of the kidnapping?”
I shoot Andrew a quick, warning look.
He pouts, but nods once. “Y-yeah. That’s me.”
“Well.” Madam Yao sniffs. “I do wish we didn’t have to meet in these unfortunate circumstances. The school board is deeply disappointed in both of you, you know. It is difficult enough running one of the top schools in Beijing without having to deal with a major potential lawsuit. Peter’s parents are stillveryangry, as I’m sure you can imagine, andsomeoneis going to have to take full responsibility. After all, Airington would never condone such lowly criminal behavior.”
I doubt it’s a coincidence that her eyes land on me. The easy target. The only one who isn’t paying full school fees, who doesn’t have the ability to donate entire school buildings. Despite Andrew’s confession, it’s still more convenient for the school ifI’mguilty, rather than him.
