Chapter One: Every Lie Has a Root

When he opened them, the symbols remained. L(x)=|x-3200|+7p-2t, subject to p>0 and t=16:42. Tiny black points seeped from the final term like ink—or flies. Lin Yan stared for two seconds, and his mind began eliminating variables on instinct. The x was not money. The p was not probability. The equation aligned itself with Chen Hao’s glance to the left, the blue chalk dust on his cuff, and the half-dried drops on his desk. The solution clicked into place like a key entering a lock. He was lying. Not about where the money had been found, but about not wanting to believe it. He had known exactly where it would be. “Do you have anything to say?” Luo Cheng asked.