The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,14

the initiative of Miss Culbertson. . . .

Yes, Dolly had helped, but mostly she’d been an observer.

This war is not over, Officer Cook had said. His words wouldn’t leave her mind.

How long had things like this been going on, and Dolly had been oblivious to them? She had been an observer most of her life. She’d been diligent, cheerful, hardworking, but she’d attended church each week and listened to sermons that she then ignored. Feed my sheep, the Lord had said. Sure, Dolly had served others in small ways. She believed she was a good aunt to her nieces and nephews. She’d been a good daughter to her father when he was alive.

Yet tonight had been the first time in her life that she felt like she’d accomplished something with eternal consequences. She had literally helped change a life for the better. She’d assisted in pulling out a young woman from the darkest, deepest, most vile pit of despair, and in doing so, Dolly had not only helped rescue another’s soul, she’d rescued her own.

Her tears were not of sorrow, or pain, but gratitude.

A small cry caught Dolly’s attention. She walked down the hall that led to some of the bedrooms. Someone sat huddled at the end of the hallway.

“Tien,” Dolly whispered. “Why are you out of bed?”

The girl scooted farther into the corner, pulling her knees tightly to her chest.

Dolly saw the faint sheen of tears on the girl’s face, even though Tien quickly tucked her head against her knees.

“Did you see the new woman we brought in tonight?”

Tien didn’t move, didn’t respond.

“She’ll be all right,” Dolly said. “She was very hungry and very dirty, but she took a bath and we gave her food, and now she is safe.”

Tien’s small shoulders trembled.

Dolly could only imagine that whatever horrible memories Tien had about her former life in slavery, they were now haunting her anew.

“Come, I’ll sit with you in your room until you fall asleep,” Dolly said, touching the girl’s shoulder, hoping to give some comfort.

But Tien’s head shot up, and she shoved Dolly’s arm away, scratching her in the process with surprisingly sharp fingernails. Then Tien bolted past her, running down the hall, and disappeared into one of the bedrooms. The door slammed shut.

Dolly braced a hand against the wall, wondering what had just happened. She rubbed at the scratch on her arm. The sting of the scrape was nothing, she knew, compared to the pain that Tien must be feeling. Was this something she should report? Would punishing Tien make things worse?

Dolly waited in the dark hallway for a long moment, but no other sounds came from Tien’s bedroom. Eventually, Dolly headed for the stairs and went up to the third floor to her own bedroom—to find Miss Culbertson waiting.

“Is everything with the new rescue all right?” Miss Culbertson said in a quiet voice, her face shadowed from where she sat by the single lamp.

“She seemed very grateful, and now she’s resting, with Anna watching over her.” Dolly rubbed at her stinging arm. “Tien was in the hallway, crying. I tried to speak with her, but she lashed out.”

Miss Culbertson frowned and rose to her feet. “Let me see your arm.”

Dolly showed the director her scrape.

“I’ll speak to Tien in the morning,” Miss Culbertson said. “Sometimes these girls reenact the things that have been done to them. But we need to reinforce proper behavior and respect.”

Dolly felt like she should have been more upset, but after going on the rescue, she found she could harbor no ill feelings against a child like Tien. “Be gentle with her. She is hurting too.”

Miss Culbertson studied Dolly. “You are generous, Donaldina. And tonight you helped when needed and stayed out of the way when required. I hope you haven’t been scared off from the mission work.”

“No.” Dolly’s throat pulled tight. “I’m honored that you invited me to help. I didn’t know the living conditions would be so . . . depraved. And I didn’t know a person could be so . . . abused.”

Miss Culbertson’s nod was grave. “We are lucky she came willingly. Her owner cursed her, and sometimes that’s enough to change a girl’s mind.”

“What did he say?” Dolly asked.

Miss Culbertson returned to the single chair and sat down, then folded her hands in her lap. “He told her if she came with us, all her ancestors would curse her, and she would become a turtle.”

Dolly frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Slave owners call women without virtue turtles.”

“A prostitute,

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