“In fact, you don’t really know anyone here. You haven’t been around long enough to hear all the stories.”
Stories? What stories?
To Song, I say, “Maybe you could tell me one?”
She purses her lips, as though trying to decide. After a moment, she says, “We’ll talk later. Soon, okay? There is something I want to tell you. But not today.”
“You know where to find me.” I shrug.
That is, if I don’t disappear.
Song pushes her thumb to the keypad, and a second later the door springs open. I’m halfway down the hall when she calls after me. I turn, a look of trepidation worn plain on my face. But she just smiles sadly and says, “Thanks.”