Returning to the living room, he turned off the noisy TV, sat on the cold bamboo floor, and gazed thoughtfully at the blue sky outside the window. He heard Yvonne Clark finish washing clothes in the bathroom, then use the hair dryer for a long time before finally coming out with her own T-shirt.

　　Her face was so red it seemed blood might seep out. Yvonne Clark bit her lip, her evasive eyes shimmering, almost enough to melt one’s heart. She handed the T-shirt to Adam Bolton, saying, “It’s dry now, hurry and put it on…”

　　The T-shirt carried the fresh scent of soap. Adam Bolton brought it to his nose and took a deep sniff, saying, “It smells like Yvonne Clark…”

　　“Mature beyond your years…” Yvonne Clark almost burst out laughing at how Adam Bolton, with his innocent and delicate face, spoke like a seasoned flirt. Remembering how she had just thrown herself into his bare chest and cried her heart out, she suddenly felt a wave of shyness.

　　Adam Bolton pulled the T-shirt over his head and patted his chest. “Here, next time you can lean on me for free too, Yvonne Clark.”

　　“As if I care!” Yvonne Clark rolled her eyes at his continued teasing, but seeing his lecherous, pleased expression, she glared at him in annoyance. Yet, in her heart, a strange feeling for this young man began to grow. She thought: If only he were a few years older, maybe he could comfort me…

　　Adam Bolton went downstairs and stood outside the apartment building, looking up at Yvonne Clark’s window. Even though he couldn’t see if Yvonne Clark was watching, he still waved in that direction. After a while, Yvonne Clark opened the window, leaned out, and waved goodbye.

Chapter 7: Limited Truth

　　Adam Bolton took a taxi back to Xiangshan Forest Park, picked up the developed photos and film from the photo shop, then took another ride back to the city. By the time he got home, it was completely dark.

　　Chris Bolton was sitting on the sofa, his face gloomy. “Where have you been all day?”

　　Standing at the door, Adam Bolton thought: No wonder Dad is angry. After receiving word from Ethan Reed that Henry Harris wanted him to lay low, the idea of leaving or staying had been wrestling in Dad’s mind. The news of great-uncle’s passing must have come from the hometown this afternoon, giving Dad an excuse to leave Haizhou. And I disappeared at this time—no wonder he’s fuming.

　　“Your great-uncle passed away today. Our whole family needs to go back to Dongshe for the funeral. You’ve been out all day—where did you go?” Julia Evans stood behind her husband, having waited most of the day. He hadn’t come home for lunch, and she’d called all his classmates’ homes. She was almost ready to call the police.

　　Adam Bolton stood at the door, pouting, and looked at his father’s darkened face. “Why do we have to leave Haizhou? Don’t you care about Uncle Harris’s situation anymore?”

　　“What’s this about Uncle Harris?” Chris Bolton was baffled by his words. “Why are you saying such strange things as soon as you get home?”

　　Adam Bolton didn’t have time to slowly reveal the truth like a riddle, nor did he care if this was something a sixteen-year-old should say. “Isn’t Uncle Harris under investigation? Dad, you’re worried the provincial inspection team will want to question you next. Everyone says Uncle Harris is in trouble, but you insist he’s not, so others won’t accept you. But if you slander Uncle Harris against your conscience, you’ll feel guilty for life. What should you do? If only we could leave this place of trouble. Even without Secretary Reed’s message, you’d still go to Dongshe to lay low…”

　　“Who taught you to say these things?” Chris Bolton was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, completely shocked that his sixteen-year-old son would say such things.

　　“Who taught me? After all these years at home, seeing all that’s happened, all the people coming and going—I’ve seen enough to understand. Do I need someone to teach me?” Adam Bolton didn’t care if his words were shocking; he needed to jolt his father awake. “Great-uncle passed away, but isn’t the funeral on the third day? Why are we rushing back so soon? What will the other relatives think?”

　　Seeing his father’s face turn ashen, Adam Bolton quickly slipped into his own room to avoid being used as a punching bag if his father lost control. He wondered what effect his words had had, and pressed his ear to the door to eavesdrop on the conversation outside.

　　“Xiao Ke has a point. You’ve been hesitating these days because of these worries, haven’t you?”

　　“Is this something a kid his age would say?”

　　“Why not? Xiao Ke takes after you—precocious and mature. He’s always been quiet, so no one knows what he’s thinking.”

　　“You know, from the teachers’ college to the city, if I throw dirt on Henry Harris, he’ll never clear his name. I’m just afraid someone knows about my connection with Henry Harris and is putting Xiao Ke up to this.”

　　“If you can’t trust your own son, who can you trust? He may be quiet, but he’s sharp. He’s sixteen—who could put him up to anything? If you’re worried, just call him out and ask him yourself…”

　　“Go call him…”

　　“No one told me what to say,” Adam Bolton said, stepping out from behind the door and handing his father the photo of Henry Harris and Yvonne Clark together. “Isn’t everyone out there saying Uncle Harris and this woman have that kind of relationship?”