Chapter One: Every Lie Has a Root

Lin Yan looked down at his old uniform. The sleeves had been washed pale and ended above his bony wrists. His father had vanished years ago; his mother collected fares on a night bus. Lin Yan survived on fee waivers and competition prizes. In the simple, sturdy logic of his classmates, that was motive enough. “Who was here when my desk was searched?” he asked. “Everyone,” Chen Hao answered at once. A second equation surfaced. It was longer, but it still had a root. Seven students had not arrived yet. Chen Hao had opened the rear door alone. The discovery had occurred seventeen minutes before first period. Lin Yan rose slowly. “At six fifty-eight, you entered through the back door. You didn’t find the money in my desk.