She had trusted Semah and considered her a friend. No, more than a friend, a confidante, a sister-wife. They had shared decisions affecting their children, shared a husband, and shared a home. Pearl had given face. She had a right to expect the same in return. She had a right to be the first to know about Emanuel’s betrayal, not the last to find out. Semah owed her. So when the giantess waved, Pearl did not reciprocate. Instead, she left the veranda and went indoors, leaving Veer Singh to minister to his mistress.
Shortly after, as dusk fell, Pearl heard shouting outside.
Semah was nowhere to be seen, and Li had arrived. Normally servants anticipating his arrival would have opened the doors. But Pearl had ordered them to remain shut. Surprised, he yelled to be let in. He hammered on the door with the flat of his palm, backed away, looked for a stone, and threw it up to the veranda. He called out her name, swore at the servants whom he knew were cowering indoors, and threatened them with beatings. But the doors remained shut.
Pearl sat alone in her salon, the shutters drawn and the lights off. She covered her ears from the sounds of his indignation. Her father’s ire sprayed relentlessly for what seemed like an eternity—for your own good…reclaim face…why do you humiliate me—but she remained unmoved by his entreaties. She blamed him. He was the instrument that had enabled Emanuel’s abandonment and Semah’s betrayal.
Hoarse from screaming, his rage in tatters, Li departed from the garden, climbed into his sedan chair, and wept like a parent who has lost a child. The curse had come home to roost and the sun disappeared, pulling darkness over the house like a carapace.
In the evening silence, Pearl crawled into bed fully clothed, reached into her pocket, and pulled out her mother’s piece of jade—smoother now from years of rubbing. She held it, looking for the solace it had always given her. But it was cold comfort.