‘Whaaaaaat?!’ one of the kids chokes. ‘No way.’

If they weren’t already paying attention, now every single student is staring at me, waiting for my answer.

Ah yes, the Internet Movie Database. Online archive of every film ever made and every person involved in every film ever made. I could have, if I really wanted, tried to remove my name from the IMDb, but some remaining shred of pride has stopped me. The IMDb listing is my lasting proof that I had once been a person of note, a mover and shaker (or so I’d thought), someone who once had done more impressive things than teaching Screenwriting 101 to a bunch of kids at a no-name college.

Nothing really dies, in this day and age.

I can’t lie about it, of course. It’s spelled out right there on the IMDb, which any student could bring up this minute on their phones.

‘Yes,’ I say, after a pause. ‘I worked on one of her early films.’ I do not mention that was the film which sent her career stratospheric, or that I was associate producer on it.

Avery gasps again. ‘Oh my god, what was she like? I absolutely love her!’

‘Holly Randolph was great to work with,’ I nod. ‘I’m really happy for her success.’

I’m aware of how superficial my answer sounds, rattled off as if I were a brainwashed soldier from The Manchurian Candidate. But a shadow of nausea tugs at me. I know that if you were to examine that same IMDb listing, you would find another name located not far from Holly’s and mine. A name credited as executive producer of that film. A name which I’d rather forget.

I glance at the clock, thankful I only have two minutes of class left.

‘Listen,’ I say, regaining control. ‘I think we’re getting off-topic here. For homework this week, I want you to find a compelling character in a film – not a superhero movie, please. Watch all the scenes with that character, take notes on why you find him or her particularly compelling. What about that character is believable? What makes you want to keep watching?’

The kids grumble. Just when things were getting interesting, I have to steer them back towards homework.

The irony is not lost on me, as I pack up my papers at my desk, my head down, my face frozen in an emotionless expression.

What about that character is believable?

The characters that live on in our memories, the ones that were real. All their weaknesses, all their special skills and talents, all their hidden sides.

That email sits unopened for the entire day, but late that afternoon, when I can no longer procrastinate, I finally click on it.

Thom Gallagher of The New York Times. What do you have to say?

Dear Ms. Lai,

I hope this email does not come as an inconvenience, but I am investigating some past events regarding the film producer Hugo North for an important piece for The New York Times. I believed you used to work with Mr North at Conquest Films in the mid 2000s. I was wondering if you might have some time to talk on the phone or meet in person to answer a few questions. Please do know that whatever you say will be treated with the utmost confidence, if you wish it to be so …

There is that name I’d been trying to avoid for a decade, spelled out right in front of me. Hugo North.

Book of the week: read an extract of Complicit by Winnie M Li