Chapter Three: The Open Eight-Tenths

Two years earlier, when teammates asked for a call, Zhou had unplugged his headset and charged alone. Everyone remembered that he lost. Nobody knew he had been too frightened to trust. Han put a hand on his shoulder. “You don't create the opening alone.” Zhou exhaled. “Su, call the next one.” The Hounds laughed. Su ignored them. She raised two fingers, then folded one. Han came high. Zhou gave up the ball and waited half a beat. The switch had become habit; two defenders rushed Su. Han turned his back to the basket and shifted sideways, a door closing in the narrow court. The corner opened for eight-tenths of a second. Zhou arrived, caught, and fired. Nine-four.