Page 19

“Come,” Vera calls out from the small kitchen, and Sana tears her eyes from the mountains of memories in the living room and heads toward the kitchen.
Vera is unloading container after container from the fridge and piling them on the kitchen counter. “Put them inside those bags.” She points at a couple of reusable shopping bags.
Sana and Riki each take a bag. “What’s in these?” Sana says as she picks up a Tupperware container and peers through the plastic. She spies something brown swimming in thick gravy.
“Food. That one has pepper beef, very tender. I marinade the beef chunk in rice wine, make the meat so soft, like biting into marshmallow.”
“I don’t know that beef should have the consistency of marshmallow,” Sana says, sliding the container into the bag.
Vera frowns at her. “Obviously it’s just a saying. You will see later, it is the perfect tenderness. Ah, that one has braised tofu and mushroom. Children will love that. It was my Tilly’s favorite.”
Before long, both bags are stuffed full of containers.
“Okay, carry them downstair,” Vera says cheerfully. “Be careful! I spend all morning cooking!”
“It’s literally only ten in the morning,” Riki says. “You couldn’t have cooked all this food this morning.”
Vera gives him a savage side-eye. “You can if you wake up early enough.” She marches past them and starts heading down the stairs.
“But—” Sana heaves the bag up with a grunt. “Wait, what’s all this food for?”
Vera doesn’t miss a beat. “My fourth suspect, of course.” Just then, the downstairs bell chimes. “Ah, that’ll be my third suspect. Come, we don’t have all day!”
Sana will learn to stand up to pushy Asian aunties one day. It seems, however, that today is not that day.
ELEVEN
VERA
Vera’s murder investigation is going so well that she wonders why more people don’t just decide to leave their boring desk jobs and go into detective work. She’s started daydreaming of having the hugeVERA WANG’S WORLD-FAMOUS TEAHOUSEsign taken down and replaced withVERA WANG: PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR. Maybe she should, just to see the expression on Winifred’s face. Then again, maybe the reason why her investigation is going so well is because no one expects a tea expert to also be an expert at solving murder mysteries. Vera is basically undercover. Yes, better to hide the fact that she is a sleuth as well as a tea doctor, as she sometimes likes to refer to herself. Tilly, of course, would say, “What’s a tea doctor? Do you treat teas when they have indigestion? When they break a limb?” But that’s Tilly for you. He’s going to be very annoyed when he finds out that his mother has only gone and solved a murder.
Just this morning, Vera woke up to a text from Tilly. A text! From Tilly! Without any prompting on her behalf! It said:
Ma, call me back when you get this. We need to talk about the flash drive. You could get in serious trouble for doing that. We need to discuss how to properly handle this. I still can’t believe you did that.
A bit naggy, if you ask me, Vera thinks. She’d replied with:
Of course I don’t have flash drive, what you think I am so stupid? I was just asking hippotechnically.
Tilly had replied with more questions, which Vera conveniently forgot to reply to.
The thought of telling Tilly and Winifred about her newfound sleuthing skills puts an extra bounce in Vera’s step and she practically prances down the stairs. As expected, Oliver’s standing there, looking wary and hesitant, his shoulders rounded. If he’d been wearing a hat, he’d be clutching it in two sweaty palms, wringing it in front of his chest. As it is, hats have gone the way of yore, so Oliver merely stands there, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his phone. When he sees Vera, both relief and panic war on his face, if that is possible. Vera can practically hear his thoughts:Oh good, she’s here. AndOh no, she’s here.
“Oliver! Good boy, you’re just in time. Sana, Riki, this is Oliver.”
Behind her, Sana emits a loud, horrified gasp, and Riki freezes midway down the steps. They both stare at Oliver like—well, like they’re staring at a dead guy.
“I’m his twin,” Oliver says quickly, before either of these poor kids gets a heart attack.
They both visibly sag. Sana recovers first, giving what Vera thinks sounds like the world’s fakest laugh. “Oh man, you guys really do look alike.”
“How did you know my brother?”
There’s a split second of a pause, then Sana laughs again and says, “I didn’t know him personally, I actually have a true crime podcast and I’m here to do a story on him. I know what he looked like, of course, because I googled him.”
“Yeah, same here,” Riki says, offering Oliver his hand. “I’m Riki, I’m a reporter covering a story about your brother. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Inwardly, Vera shakes her head. Young people really need to learn how to lie better. All she needs to do is get them alone in a room with a bright light she can shine directly in their faces and the investigation would be over in five minutes, but where would the fun be in that?