“Have you heard anything from Biyu?” Wes asked me.

“No. Have you heard anything from Ellis?”

He shook his head. “He reached out to his friend, but I don’t know anything else.”

“Keep me posted, okay?” I leaned down and gave him a quick kiss. “I have to get to the office.”

“Do you want me to come with you today instead of Brian?”

I put a hand on my hip. “Levi told me he’s got you busy transcribing field notes and writing reports. Which I think is perfect, seeing as you’re still on restricted duty.”

Wes grimaced. “Gee, thanks. I’d rather gouge my eye out with a pencil than do more paperwork, but if you think it’s a good idea…”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

But even though I’d vowed to be supportive, I wasn’t sorry in the slightest. The longer Wes stayed on restricted duty, the longer he was safe. I patted his broad shoulder, which felt firm beneath my touch—he wouldn’t be deskbound much longer.

“Can you leave work early today? There’s a house I want to take a look at.” 

I shook my head. “I don’t think so—I have a ton of calls to make. Maybe we can grab dinner after, and then you can tell me all about it?”

“Sounds good.” He reached up and kissed me, making my body ache for him.

When he pulled back, I realized I still felt achy. My head thudded.

Wes narrowed his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to drink some water. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

When I got to the office, I poured myself a large glass of water and settled at my desk. I relaxed as I cleaned out my email inbox, getting it back to zero new messages, right where I liked it. Still, I had a lot of work to do. The international business journals were jockeying around me, asking for an exclusive on the story I’d promised. I’d decided to commit to The Wall Street Journal—they were prestigious, had a huge readership, and were distinctly American—all the better to annoy Li Na.

I sent an email to my friend who worked there, Calvin, telling him about my decision to give him the exclusive.

And then I ran into my bathroom and promptly threw up. 

What the hell? I sat on the bathroom floor, reeling, but the nausea passed quickly.

By the time I got back to my desk, I was shaking. Part of me worried I was about to have another panic attack or that I was coming down with a stomach bug. But after a minute, I realized I didn’t have the chills—I was just starving. I smacked my head. I’d forgotten to eat breakfast, and when I thought back further, I realized I hadn’t been eating my normal load over the past few days. I’d been too upset about Biyu. No wonder I felt like crap.

I hustled to the cafeteria where I got my usual, a vanilla protein shake and a salad with roasted beets and goat cheese. Back in my office, I arranged my food and had a big slug of my shake. My mouth immediately puckered—it tasted sour. I put the lid on it, setting it aside in disgust. I bent to have a bite of my salad, but the smell of the marinated beets was too pungent. Usually I loved them, but today, ugh. Maybe I was coming down with a stomach bug?

But at the thought of my stomach, it howled with hunger. 

All of a sudden, I knew what I wanted. Vegetable lo mein, the greasy kind, from the Chinese takeout place on Sixth Street. I pulled up the menu and called them, then called Brian and whined until he agreed to drive me there.

Who cared that is was only ten thirty in the morning? 

---

“Calvin Jakes is on line one for you,” my assistant said. 

“Put him through.”

“Hey, Hannah.”

Calvin’s voice was bright and warm. I easily conjured the image of my friend from Stanford who had strawberry-blond hair, a smattering of freckles, and a charming smile—all of which probably helped him disarm his interviews subjects and scoop the best stories.

“Hi! It’s so nice to hear your voice.” Too bad it’s under such insane circumstances. I kept the thought to myself and arranged my crispy spring rolls in a neat line, so I could eat them in order of appearance as soon as I got off the phone.

“I know, right? I was psyched to get your message. I was worried you were going to give the exclusive to the Financial Times.”

“I thought about it…” I absently played with the spring rolls.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

I snapped to attention. “Not at all. I want to give the exclusive to you, but you need to get your editors to understand—this is a big story. When the time comes, you’re going to need space. I want this on the front page, and I need you to commit to that.”

“The front page is yours.” 

“Great. I appreciate it, and I’m happy we’re working together.”

“Me too, me too.” Calvin paused for a second. “But can’t you tell me anything about the details of this story? Like: who it involves? What it’s about?” 

“I can’t tell you anything more than it involves major players from Silicon Valley and also from China. Trust me, this news is going to blow the doors off the biotech world.”

“Does this have anything to do with what happened to you? The kidnapping?”

I sat up straight, no longer playing with my food. “How did you know about that?”

“People talk. Some of our classmates who work in tech heard about it, and they told me you’d been kidnapped. What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” My voice came out harsher than I intended. “And the story’s in no way related, so let it go, okay? Or bye-bye exclusive.”

“Don’t say bye-bye—you know I want this story. I wasn’t trying to make you upset, I swear. Just trying to dig a little deeper. You’re being so mysterious and all.”

I sighed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I was doing it for a good reason?”

“Sure—as long as you let me in on what the reason is someday soon. And let me write about it.”

---

WES

Ellis had been ordered to take a day off, so I asked him to meet me at the house I’d been eyeing. I texted him the address, then headed over to meet with the realtor. 

He showed up just as the broker was leaving. He let out a low whistle as he stood in the driveway, looking up at the large home, which boasted skylights, an elegant stone driveway, and a three-car garage. He clapped me on the back. “This place is something else. Makes our old house look like a shack.”

I squinted at the lawn, feeling proud but also a little embarrassed by the house’s grand appearance. “Mom and Dad would have a fit if they knew the list price.”

Our parents were hardy, Midwestern middle-class stock. They had a lot of money from their respective families, but you would never know it by how they lived—modest, split-level home, pre-owned cars, and dinner made in the Crock-Pot, not some trendy restaurant like Mado.

“They’d be proud of you, and they’d want you to have it, for you and Hannah.” Ellis gave me the side-eye. “Speaking of Hannah, did you ask her to move in with you yet?”

I looked down at my shoes, which suddenly needed inspecting. “Not yet.”

“C’mon, bro. You don’t make a woman like that wait.”

Now I gave him the side-eye—since when did he give me relationship advice?

“What’s going on with you?”

He frowned. “I’m your big brother. I’m just trying to help.”

I waved him off. “Yeah, I know that. But I mean, what’s going on with you?”

Ellis looked stymied. “I came here to tell you about my contact, who’s now in Shenzhen on your dime.”

That wasn’t what I meant, but I let him continue.

“He’s been doing surveillance on Biyu—she’s fine, her son is fine, she’s just going to work and going home, sticking to her normal routine.” He shrugged. “He’s going to watch her for the next few days, but I warned him to stay away from Jiàn Innovations. He knows Li Na by reputation. He understands he has to be careful.”

“Good. Thank you. Do you think he’ll be comfortable approaching Biyu when the time comes?”

“Maybe,” Ellis said. 

“Explain that we’ll make it worth his while.”

“Fine. What’s the message for Biyu?”

I shrugged. “That if she doesn’t make contact soon, not only is the deal off, but that she should be worried.”

Ellis raised an eyebrow. “I take it that message is from you, not Hannah.”

“She’s ready to play hardball. Speaking of Hannah, I have to get going. I’m meeting her for dinner. Want to join us?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Who made you take the day off—Fiona or Levi?”

He shrugged again. “Both.”

“Why do you look so miserable?”

Ellis grunted. “I don’t do days off. I live in a climate-controlled mansion by myself—what the hell am I supposed to do all day? By the way, the cleaning service came by. They said you paid them?”

“I figured you didn’t have time to clean toilets since you’ve been working nonstop.”

“Uh, thanks?”

I grimaced. “Uh, you’re welcome?”

“I don’t mean to be ungrateful. I just…I guess I don’t know what to do with myself. In the desert, if we had time off, we played cards and cleaned the barracks.” He frowned. “Everything’s already clean, here. It’s shiny and perfect and everybody drives a Range Rover. It’s frickin’ la-la land.”

“So you’d rather be at work.”

He ran his hands over his buzz cut. “Fuck yeah, I’d rather be at work. At least I’m doing something.”

“And things with Fiona are fine?”

He turned and leveled me with a blazing glare. “Why the hell do you keep asking me that?”

“I don’t.”

He held the glare.

“You seem attached,” I said finally.

“I don’t want her to die on my watch. Okay?” His voice blistered.

“Okay. Sheesh.” 

He stalked toward his car—the Range Rover Levi had given him for company use.

“Are you still coming to dinner?”

He mumbled something under his breath as he peeled out of the driveway. It sounded suspiciously like Fuck no.

I sighed. I should’ve known better. With Ellis, less was more, and saying nothing was always best.