Trouble “Behind every smile there’s teeth.” — Confucius Something was different about today’s interrogation. It started far earlier than normal and went on far longer. Will felt like he’d only closed his eyes and they were dragging him from the sleeping platform. He was so groggy he could hardly stand, which earned him a kick in the shins. Amazing how quickly a well-aimed kick in the shins could get your faculties functioning. The interrogations had changed subtly since he’d confessed, so he shouldn’t have been surprised by this one. He’d been naive to think giving them what they wanted would end the process. It’d seemed to excite them further. It wasn’t enough to say he’d killed Feng; they wanted details. So this morning he told them. It was dark, it was late, it was wintertime. Will remembered he’d been cold walking from the office, remembered thinking he should’ve accepted Bo’s offer to wait and drive him home after working late.
