There are moments you wait for. And then there are moments you wait for. Moments you spend every other moment preparing for. Points of your life that click and turn. Push you in a completely new direction.
Dai and I stand at the end of the alleyway. My breath is short and the never-ending burn keeps digging a hole in my side. I ignore these things. Look down the river of trash. Count how many steps it’ll take to get to my sister.
My limbs shake with too much emotion. Dai leads the way and I follow, using one hand to steady myself on slimy stones. I’m glad Dai’s ahead. I don’t want him to see how hard it is for me to keep up.
A few feet in front of the window, Dai pauses. His body dead still. My foot lands on a loud, crunching soda bottle. His head whips back. Almond eyes narrow at me while he puts a finger to his lips.
My heart picks up: from trot to canter to gallop. Something’s wrong.
We stand still. Listen into the shadows. I hear nothing. Dai takes a few more steps forward. Skips through the trash like a cat. The window’s light colors him unreal scarlet. Dai looks at the shattered glass as if he’s seeing a ghost. He crouches down, fingers diving through old wrappers and bottle caps, picking up something all curled and hard. A shell.
“What’s that?” I hiss. “What’s wrong?”
His jaw clenches. Another finger goes up to his lips and his eyes warn, Be quiet!
I’m angry, ready to hiss again, when a noise rises up from the other side of the jagged glass.
“Has she admitted to anything?” Longwai sounds oddly awake through the curtain. Smart, sharp, alert.
“Mei Yee? Of course not. She’s just sitting there like a dullard.” A woman is speaking, her voice thin and reedy. Horribly bitter. Hearing her say my sister’s name makes me cringe. But it leaves no room for doubt. My sister used to be here. Behind this glass.
“And your search of the room?”
“There’s a hole in the window. It was stuffed up with one of her dresses. No sign of the seashell, though.”
Dai’s fingers lock around my arm. He pushes himself flat against the wall, just under the window. I follow. My stitches slam into cinder block and I try not to cry out. I bite through my lip instead. Salt and iron swim across my tongue. The alley goes blurry with tears.
The light above us changes. Falling from red to a weak yellow. Shadows spring on the opposite wall, shapes of Longwai and the woman bending closer to the glass.
“Even if it broke by accident, why would she keep it a secret?” The woman’s voice is clear. Close.
Dai’s hand is still on my arm, squeezing tight. I don’t dare move. Not even to look over at him. I hear Longwai’s breathing. Heavy and thick. Unbearably close.
“Does she have a cut on her hand?”
“I—I didn’t notice.” The woman sounds startled. “Why?”
“Blood.” Longwai says only one word. But it’s enough.
“Do you think…”
“I’ll send Fung outside to check the alley.”
This time I do look over at Dai. He’s staring at me, too. His face is a scarecrow’s: lips stitched tight, patchworks of feeling all over. His eyes dart to the end of the alley. Keen and meaningful.
We have to get out of here.
“What should we do with Mei Yee?” the woman asks.
“Keep her where she is. I’ll be in to see her in a minute.”
“And if the ambassador shows up?”
“Tell him she’s ill. Offer him another girl.” He says this and I feel sick. I have to swallow it down. Keep that last little roll of rice and tuna the Suns’ maid handed me inside my stomach. I always knew Mei Yee’s hell was worse than mine. But listening to Longwai sell my sister like meat makes it very, very real.
My heart burns hotter than my stitches. I’m sick and murderous and ready to run.
The light sinks back into red. Voices trail off with footsteps, cut short by squealing hinges. Dai is on his feet, pulling me up. I feel like I’m moving in a dream: exhausting muscles and will, but not really going anywhere.
“Come on, Jin Ling.” Dai tugs harder and I’m standing. “You have to go.”
“We’re just going to leave? But Mei Yee—”
He cuts me off. “You heard Longwai. Fung’s coming.”
I can’t think straight. Not with the pain. Not with his tugging and pulling like this. “But Mei Yee. The book. We can’t leave!”
“Jin Ling. Look at me.”
It’s the only thing I can do. Everything else is spinning like a child’s toy top. I choose a point, the wrinkling gap of skin between his eyebrows. Focus on it.
“We are not leaving. You are.” Dai digs deep into his jeans’ pocket. Out comes a small wad of bills. “You get out of here and you take a cab back to Tai Ping Hill. Go to number sixty-two. Ask to see Ambassador Osamu.”
The ambassador? The one who would show up for Mei Yee? Use her… My mouth goes dry at the thought. My shoulders start shaking.
Dai’s hand grips tighter, steadies me. “Tell him Mei Yee is in trouble. He needs to come get her.”
“That’s all?”
“It’s enough. It will get him to come.” He crams the money into my jacket pocket. “It will give us the distraction we need to make things right.”
I feel undone. My head is spinning the way it was that first day in the Suns’ guest suite. The world lurches even when I’m standing still. “And what are you going to do?”
Dai’s walking again. His arm guides me like an ox pulling a plow. Trash churns under our boots while we make our way to the main street. When we reach the end, Dai lets go of my arm.
“The best place for me right now is inside that brothel.”
I don’t think I hear him right, but his hands return to mine. Metal—cold and hard—brushes my skin. Weight falls, sudden, into my fingers. I look down and realize what Dai has given me: his revolver.
“Keep this for me.” He presses the gun into my palm. Heavy, heavy power in my grasp. “If Fung finds it on me, I’m done.”
“No! I’m not leaving you here. I promised—”
Dai shoves the gun harder into my hand, cuts me off. “I know what you promised. And I know what I promised. But there are two of us, Jin Ling. That’s two chances to get your sister out. If we go in there together, that’s screwed; and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you go in first.”
“But, Dai—” His name falls out of my throat. “Longwai. He’ll kill you.”
The older boy keeps talking. Doesn’t miss a beat, “If he does… don’t worry about the ledger. You get your sister out. Get as far away from this city as possible. Don’t look back.”
That was always the plan. But suddenly it feels like an impossible thing to do by myself. There are no words. I just look at the older boy. My throat is thick and my side hurts. My hands are heavy with his gun. His last protection given to me.
I’m shaking again. “I—I don’t know how to use it.”
“Pull the hammer, pull the trigger,” he says sharply. “There are six shots, so save them until you can’t anymore.”
I don’t want to leave him here. Alone. Without a weapon. I want to stay with him and fight. But my splitting side tells me that’s no longer an option. I have to go. I have to let Dai do the things I can’t.
“Get your ass back here fast. Osamu’s, too.” He swallows. Looks over my shoulder. Where the entrance to the brothel lies.
I don’t know if I can do this. But I have to. My fingers close tight around the gun.
“Remember. Tai Ping Hill. Number sixty-two. Ambassador Osamu.” Dai drills the information deeper into my skull. Not that he needs to. Every word is already there, blazed in challenge and fire. “And take these just in case.”
He presses the keys to his apartment into my hand and lets go. Pushes me away. “See you soon.”
I hope he’s right.
I’m running, even though my side splits and I don’t remember telling my feet to move. The gun is tucked deep in my jacket, slowing me with its impossible weight. Every step is awful. But my boots keep pounding. Through streets and shortcuts. All the way to the Old South Gate.