Chapter Three: The Seller

With nine minutes twelve seconds remaining, gates slammed down at both ends of the platform. Xu removed the laptop battery, but the screen stayed bright. “My name is Ji Chen,” the voice said. “At least, that's what they call me now.” A video window opened. The man inside looked nothing like Cheng, yet pressed his thumb against his second knuckle when thinking—Cheng's own unnoticed habit. Cheng's report glowed on a monitor behind him. “Yesterday I couldn't build a pivot table,” Ji said. “Now I remember Su Mo beneath the blue umbrella. She said she wouldn't spend adulthood submitting their life for each other's approval. You pretended not to care, then cried after the last train.” Pain traced the clean hole in Cheng's memory. “Give it back.”