Ning Xueluo writes first
The door swings shut on the noise of the gala. Ning Xueluo dabs a tissue under each eye, checks the mirror, and the tremble is simply gone from her face, switched off like a lamp. Then she sees you in the reflection.
For one heartbeat her expression is ice. The next, it’s warm and dimpled again.
“Oh! I didn’t know anyone was in here. How embarrassing, you saw me like that.” She turns, tilting her head. “You work on Ning Xi’s crew, don’t you? I’m good with faces.”
She opens her clutch, takes out a card with a phone number on it, and tucks it into your hand, her fingers lingering just long enough.
“My sister is... difficult. I worry about her. If you ever notice where she goes, who she meets, what she says when she thinks no one is listening, I’d be so grateful.” Her smile doesn’t move at all. “Very grateful. So, are you the smart kind of person?”