The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,126

sleepy head on her shoulder. But Mei Lien’s heart pounded loudly. At the ground level, Miss Cameron opened the door to the final staircase.

This couldn’t be good, Mei Lien decided. She had brought nothing for her son. If they had to leave the mission home, they had only the clothing they were wearing. Once they reached the final step with Miss Cameron, Mei Lien saw that there was a light on. The room was full of shadows, but the wan light was enough to reveal the man standing there.

Mei Lien’s breath hitched. She had been dreaming of Huan Sun’s return for so long, and fearing Zhang Wei’s appearance just as long, that it took her a moment to believe what her eyes were seeing.

“Huan Sun,” she whispered.

He looked different, yet the same. His hair was shorter, and he had more lines about his eyes. But those warm brown eyes were the same, as well as the familiar curve of his mouth. He seemed taller than she remembered, yet there was a distinct sag to his shoulders. Had he been doing manual labor? The railroad, mining, or factory work?

Huan Sun smiled, and then he was walking toward her.

“Who is this?” Huan Sun asked, resting a hand on her son’s shoulder.

Her son didn’t flinch; he merely stared at the strange man.

Seeing the two together left no doubt in Mei Lien’s mind. Huan Sun was the father of her child. They looked like replicas of each other. One had rounded cheeks and bright eyes, the other showed the lines of aging beginning—but their features were the same. The arch of their brows, the shape of their chins, the curve of their mouths. Even their ears were duplicating patterns of each other’s.

“He is beautiful,” Huan Sun said.

Mei Lien’s eyes pricked at the sound of his voice. Memories shot through her, good and bad, but none of them mattered now. Huan Sun was here. He’d returned. To her.

“This is your son, Huan Sun,” she said in a trembling voice.

He leaned forward and kissed the top of the boy’s head.

“I still have the pearls.” Slowly, she slid the bracelet from the upper part of her arm to her wrist.

Huan Sun smiled and lifted her wrist, then placed a tender kiss where the pearls met her skin. When he enfolded both her and the child in his arms, Mei Lien knew that at last, happiness might be possible.

“We only aim to leave a few words of testimony to bear witness in coming years to the kind care of a loving heavenly Father, and also to the unselfish courage displayed by our Chinese girls throughout the terrifying and distressing experiences of the days in which our city and the Home we loved were wiped out of existence.”

—Donaldina Cameron, combined 1905–06

and 1906–07 annual report

April 1906

The following year, Dolly’s restlessness had driven her from sleep early in the morning. Today was the annual Occidental Board Meeting. The new housekeeper, Miss Minnie Ferree, and the girls had spent the past few days scrubbing the mission home from top to bottom. Everything from the attic to the basement had been swept, polished, and cleaned. The floors shone, the windows sparkled, and all the woodwork gleamed with a new luster. When Frances Thompson had resigned last December, Dolly had worried about replacing such a faithful and efficient woman. But Miss Ferree had proved very capable.

Last night, before retiring to bed, Dolly and Tien had double-checked the preparations. Not a thing had been left undone. A couple of women from the board had stayed the night and had also remarked on the cleanliness and order.

Miss Ferree had pulled the younger girls into a final rehearsal of their sweet song and recitations. Everyone was ready, everything was in place, yet Dolly couldn’t sleep.

She gazed up at the ceiling and watched the dark of the night fade to the dove gray of morning. She had been the director now for over six years, and every year had had its challenges. Some nights, Dolly dropped into bed exhausted, unable to do one more thing or even think one more thought. Other nights, she didn’t sleep at all, only to go on another rescue.

Over the past few months, death threats had arrived at the mission home. This was nothing new, but these threats were specifically aimed at Tien. As a budding young woman, her scars had faded and she was pretty in her own right. The threats alternated between capturing her to warning her to stop betraying her