The red wine had clung to the sides of the glass for too long, leaving behind a thin film of residue.
I watched Su Wanqing swirl her glass, unable to shake the feeling that something was off. She was wearing a full face of makeup today, with her eyeliner more carefully drawn than usual and even her lipstick chosen in the richest vintage red. Normally, she would say she couldn't be bothered, but tonight she had spent a full hour and a half in the walk-in closet getting ready for this family dinner.
“Beichen, come on, open up.”
She speared a piece of foie gras, dipped it in black truffle sauce, and held it to my lips. I bit down without thinking. The rich, oily flavor that burst in my mouth came with a familiar, sweet, metallic taste. I wouldn't find out what it was until three years later, but at the time, I only thought she was being sweet.
I chewed. She smiled, a thin sheen of tears in her eyes.
