"That's my cake," Xiao Sheng sobbed from my arms. "Who took it?" I asked, moving through the living room like a blade. "He did," Mingyuan said without looking up from his phone. "Baozhu. She grabbed it off the table." "She what?" I set Xiao Sheng down. His face was smeared with frosting. He pointed weakly at the hallway, tiny thumb stained blue. "I tied a bow on it for him," I said. My voice was flat. "It had his name on it." "She said it was hers," Mingyuan shrugged. "She was upset." "Upset about what?" I went to Baozhu's door and knocked once, hard. The door opened a crack. Baozhu blinked at me with a mouth full of something sweet. "You took his cake," I said. She rolled her eyes. "It was just a slice." "His birthday," I said. "His cake." "So what?" Her smile was casual. "I'm unhappy." "You want to be unhappy? Then go be unhappy somewhere else." I pushed the door wider and stepped into her room. Clothes were piled like excuses; a perfume bottle lay toppled. She stood up slow and straightened her shirt like she was preparing a speech. "You can't tell me what to do," she said, voice rising. "This apartment is my family too." "Your family?" I said. "You mean Jiao family." Mingyuan stepped in behind me, hands up. "Qing—" "Don't 'Qing' me." I pointed at Baozhu. "You stole from a five-year-old." "Harbor City is full