The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,105

a kitchen. Mei Lien bit her lip, battling with her physical reaction of walking down those stairs into the unknown. Could she do it? She knew her answer; she had to be strong enough to follow through. “All right,” she said at last.

Lonnie wrapped her arms about Mei Lien, surprising her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been hugged by another woman. Not since her mother’s farewell, she was sure.

When Mei Lien hugged Lonnie back, the girl laughed. Mei Lien felt a small smile push its way to the surface. “We should go now, before I change my mind.”

Lonnie drew back, her eyes shining. “Then let’s hurry.” She grasped Mei Lien’s hand and practically pulled her off the bed with her.

Miss Cameron rose with them and opened the bedroom door. She gave Mei Lien an encouraging smile as they moved into the corridor. The house was abuzz with life and energy and voices, but no one was in the hallway.

So, tugged by Lonnie, Mei Lien descended the front staircase. When she had been brought to the house, they had used the back stairs—the stairs they’d told her she would have to go back down if there was a house raid. This front staircase was a thing of beauty, made from dark wood and winding from the top floors to the main level.

Each step brought her farther away from the sanctity of her bedroom; each step brought her closer to something different, something unknown.

When she hesitated on the last three steps, Lonnie turned and said, “Don’t worry, Mei Lien. You’ll never have to be alone again.”

“It was necessary . . . in a way to break the letter of the law though not the spirit of the law when we rescued a Chinese child for there was no written law to uphold us in entering a house and carrying off a child—then, too, before it was possible to carry out guardianship proceedings.”

—Donaldina Cameron, mission home report

1904

The letter folded easily, its creases well-worn due to the number of times that Dolly had read Charles’s words. He was thriving at the seminary in New Jersey, and his letter was full of enthusiasm and purpose, yet Dolly hadn’t written him back. She missed him terribly, and she was afraid that her melancholy would bleed onto the pages.

No matter, it was late at night, and she should get some rest. This morning, she had accompanied little Mae Tao to the courthouse, where her hearing had been a farce. The judge had turned her over to her “uncle,” and she was dragged out of the courthouse crying. The experience had left Dolly feeling as if her stomach had turned to stone.

There had also been a plague scare on the next street over. It turned out that the man was sick with something else, but it had been enough to send the entire neighborhood into a panic. The plague had spread despite the city officials’ efforts to barricade neighborhoods, and more than a hundred people had died.

Tomorrow, Dolly would go to court with Yuen Ho’s husband, who’d been shot by a highbinder after he helped his wife escape. Dolly doubted the highbinder would be caught and punished, but filing the charges would have to do for now. Her thoughts shifted to the young man who had delivered a message years before and had then been shot in the street moments after. Even with the passing years, the danger continued, and the stakes only seemed higher.

Dolly yearned for an outsider’s point of view. She longed to discuss these events with Charles. But in truth, after recording the events in the mission home ledger, she was often too emotionally exhausted to repeat them in a letter—although Charles was always interested in hearing about her work. In fact, her work had been what had inspired him to find a higher calling in his life.

Dolly didn’t miss the irony of the number of miles that now separated her from the man she hoped to marry. Yes, that hope was something she could admit to herself now that he was living across the country. She was trying to be understanding and brave and to continue to do her own work while she waited. . . .

Charles might be far away, but Dolly had plenty to be grateful for, especially, at the moment, the progress that Mei Lien was making. Lonnie had taken it upon herself to be Mei Lien’s young friend, and the woman was spending more and more time each