Chapter Five: Between Four Hands

*You. Today.* He altered the rhythm: *Why didn't you identify the driver?* She refused him with a string of rests. Then she struck a sudden dissonance: *Because someone told me to forget.* No words passed between them, yet everyone in the room knew this was not a performance of obedience. Chongshan's grip tightened on his cane. Manyi began humming a low line with the melody. Xingyao stopped. It was the missing lower part. "You know this composition," Shen Yan said. Manyi smiled. "I tested the vocal line while Qinghe wrote it." "You did more than sing." Minglan placed the cassette player on the piano and played Mingxi's severed testimony. "Your people drove the car."