Eric Bennett sat at his desk, which was covered with a mess of completed test papers and exercise books. At the moment, he was holding his phone in one hand while rummaging through the desk drawer with the other.

He knew it was a bit late now, and Big Tom was definitely already asleep, but he just couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” He stood up, paced around the room twice, and even pulled at the blanket to check under the bed.

“Damn…” On the other end, Big Tom finally answered the call. “Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is?”

“I know it’s a bit late…” Eric Bennett said.

“It’s not just a bit, kid, it’s almost four o’clock,” Big Tom sighed. “What’s up?”

“That book I stuffed in my back pocket today,” Eric Bennett frowned. “Did you see it?”

“Back pocket? What book?” Big Tom was confused. “You even take books out with you?”

“Never mind, go back to sleep.” Eric Bennett hung up, sitting down at the edge of the bed, feeling a bit deflated. He was already overtired, but now he was wide awake.

Frustrated.

He had to stay at home these days, so yesterday he went to his grandma’s house to get the book and bring it over. But then Edward Clark picked up some kid, which was pretty annoying, so after all that he went home in a bad mood to do homework, and only just now remembered—the book was gone.

He’d had that book for many years, from first grade until now. He’d finished reading it long ago, and it wasn’t anything special. He usually just carried it around, rarely opening it anymore.

But the book had been with him for so many years, like a little girl’s doll—a kind of comfort.

Sometimes, it was even his main source of security.

When he was just a little kid, it was even his way of improving relationships with classmates and escaping bullying.

The book wasn’t important.

But the book was also too important.

Still, he had to sleep—there was class tomorrow.

When he stayed at his parents’ place, he couldn’t skip class. If he was at his grandparents’, it was whatever. His grandma used to think, just like in elementary school, that he finished school before four every day, and only came home at six or seven because he was working so hard at school.

Time to sleep.

He snuck to the bathroom to wash up like a thief, then came back to his room, randomly grabbed a book from the pile his dad had bought according to his own reading list, didn’t even check what it was, stuffed it under his pillow, and closed his eyes.

The first day his precious book ran away from home.

Miss it.

The next day.

Miss it. Searched for it at online used bookstores.

It actually exists.

Twenty-seven? That’s a rip-off!

The third day.

Miss it. Searched used bookstores.

Thirty-six? And ten for shipping?

Before the teacher walked over, Eric Bennett slid his phone into the pocket on his pant leg, keeping his original posture without moving.

It wasn’t until the teacher gently patted his shoulder that he suddenly looked up, rubbing his eyes.

“Didn’t sleep well?” the teacher asked softly.

“Stayed up too late,” Eric Bennett replied.

“Put your head down and rest for a few minutes,” the teacher said. “But remember to balance work and rest.”

“Okay.” Eric Bennett nodded.

After the teacher walked away, he turned to look beside him.

Andrew Stone was looking at him with a face full of disdain. “How are you so good at pretending?”

“Want me to teach you?” Eric Bennett asked.

“No.” Andrew Stone refused honestly.

“I’m going out for a bit later,” Eric Bennett whispered. “If Teacher He comes looking for me, just say I went to the playground to recite.”

Andrew Stone didn’t agree right away. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “You recite? Aren’t you supposed to have a photographic memory?”

“Bullshit,” Eric Bennett denied without thinking. “When did the legend of photographic memory ever include me?”

“Then how do you usually do so well on exams? Do you recite too?” Andrew Stone asked.

“No, actually… I chose science because I thought I wouldn’t have to memorize stuff,” Eric Bennett sighed. “Didn’t expect there’d still be so much to memorize.”

“Then how do you get into the top five in exams?” Andrew Stone pressed.

“I listen in class, man,” Eric Bennett sighed again. “The stuff that needs memorizing, I can remember most of it, and if not, I can make something up.”

Andrew Stone didn’t say anything, just looked at him.

Eric Bennett glanced over and saw that Andrew Stone’s expression was one of deep sorrow and disappointment.

He snapped back to his senses, and to prevent Andrew Stone from starting to cut the cake again, he quickly added, “Sometimes I have to cheat, too.”

“…Oh.” Andrew Stone nodded.

During the second period in the afternoon, Eric Bennett didn’t go to class. He slipped out of school and went to the small park. Even though he’d already checked it several times in the past two days, determined not to give up, he went again that afternoon.

Nothing.

He knew he could buy a used copy online, but it meant nothing to him.

He only wanted the one that had been with him for over a decade, the one that had been under his pillow through all his ups and downs, with his own signature, his own notes, worn smooth and shiny…

Now, the last way to find the book was to ask that cold-blooded Edward Clark.