The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,22

in her step. Anna sat at the desk, her shoulders slumped while she propped her chin with her hands, gaze downcast.

Dolly entered quietly and sat in the chair opposite.

Anna slowly lifted her eyes. “It’s cancer,” she said in a rasp. “The physician found signs of internal bleeding and doesn’t think she’ll last more than a few days. The hospital would just want to run painful tests. He advised us to make her comfortable here until she passes.”

Sorrow rippled through Dolly. “What will we tell the children?”

“I don’t know yet.” Anna traced a small circle on the desk with her finger. “We will have them visit their mother in the morning. Perhaps she’ll tell them.”

Dolly’s throat felt as if it had turned to sandpaper.

“Hong Leen gave me her final wishes,” Anna continued. “She wants her daughter to become a medical missionary and her son to become a minister.”

“Hong Leen is Christian?” It shouldn’t have surprised Dolly, because Bible study was part of the curriculum at the mission home. The residents all attended church on Sundays, but that didn’t mean everyone converted or kept with the faith after moving out.

The edge of Anna’s mouth lifted, and her brown eyes warmed. “Hong Leen became a devout Christian while living here the first time. Her husband converted as well. Sadly, that would have been another complication in her relationship with her in-laws.”

Long after Anna left, Dolly sat in the empty office with the changing shadows of the afternoon shifting through the room. Distractions would come soon enough, and the busyness of the day would consume her time, but for a few moments, she contemplated how the lives of these children were about to change once again. She knew firsthand what it was like to lose a mother at such a young age. But her father and older sisters had been there for her, had continued to raise her.

And now, Dolly would be there for someone else.

Two days later, Miss Culbertson returned from her travels.

Three days after that, Hong Leen died.

Dolly did her best to soothe the orphaned children’s fears and sorrows. She held them, she fed them, and now she sat with the children, distracting them with picture books while Anna directed the funeral preparations. Anna had taken over the arrangements, since Miss Culbertson had been ill since her return. The director was thinner than ever and depleted of energy.

Hong Lee was to be buried at the Six Companies cemetery in Colma.

The youngest child, Kang, didn’t seem to fully understand the loss of his mother. But he followed Dolly about the mission home like a shadow, frequently tugging on her skirt so that she would pick him up. Jiao had cried and cried the day of her mother’s death, but now she sat very still, listening to the story with all her attention.

Although Dolly’s heart was heavy with the tragedy, she read story after story in a cheerful tone, exaggerating the character parts and earning a few smiles from the little children. More children gathered about them to listen, including Lonnie and Dong Ho, and Dolly marveled that all these orphans or sold children were now starting to feel like family. With no husband or children of her own, Dolly believed she now had a taste of what it was to love completely and fully. She could not deny the attachment she had to each child, which only grew deeper the more time she spent teaching them and serving them.

As she turned the page of the picture book, she scanned the young, eager faces, their deep brown eyes, golden skin, and black hair. She knew everyone’s names now, along with their personality quirks, and she loved seeing their eyes light up when she spoke to them. Kang had claimed his usual place on her lap, and the other children crowded about her knees.

Ever so silently, Tien crept into the room. Dolly pretended not to see her because she knew if the girl was acknowledged, she would flee. Dolly held back a smile as Tien sat cross-legged by an end table.

“I want to read!” Lonnie cried out. As usual, she shouted her demands, unlike most of the other young girls, who had more demure personalities.

“May I please?” Dolly corrected.

Lonnie looked far from repentant, yet said in her same volume, “May I please read the story?”

“Do we all agree that we should let Lonnie read to us next?” Dolly asked the group.

The dark heads bobbed. Dolly glanced at Tien. She was now leaning forward, seeming intent