The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,73

innocent, not after Huan Sun. But the difference between the two men made her feel as if she’d betrayed Huan Sun. She had crossed an irreversible line, and she’d betrayed herself. Betrayed her soul.

From the deep purple outside her window, she guessed that dawn was still hours away. Sleep would not come, she knew. Climbing out of bed, she located the pearl bracelet, then slipped it on. Curling up on her side, she pulled on her blanket, then rested her cheek on the pearl beads. This was how she would sleep, remembering Huan Sun—the man who had cared about her. Who had seemed sorrowful to leave her.

Click.

Mei Lien opened her eyes, wondering if Zhang Wei was back. Perhaps he had merely gone to fetch food and water?

But the figure walking into her room was too small to be Zhang Wei.

“Ah-Peen Oie,” Mei Lien murmured and rose from the bed.

She didn’t get very far because Ah-Peen Oie brought a switch down on the side of her face.

Mei Lien fell back with a cry. Her cheek stung, and she wouldn’t be surprised if blood had been drawn. But Ah-Peen Oie wasn’t finished.

Mei Lien tried to ward off the blows from the switch, but Ah-Peen Oie’s strength and ferocity were unmatchable.

Turning away from the violence, Mei Lien shielded her face. The blows kept coming, striking her arms, her shoulders, her torso, her hips.

“Stop,” Mei Lien cried. “I did nothing wrong. He came to me.”

Ah-Peen Oie screamed something in her fury, but Mei Lien couldn’t understand the words through her seething pain.

So this was her punishment. And this was her life. Assault, opium, men, fading memories of her home and family.

When Ah-Peen Oie finished, Mei Lien didn’t even hear her shut the door because her mind was numb. She felt nothing. Thought nothing. She was nothing.

Three days passed.

At least, she thought it had been three days. Mei Lien didn’t move for hours, and when she finally did, it was to find that her water was mostly gone. No food had been left in her room. And her door was locked from the outside.

As that first day slipped into night, then morning again, no food or water was brought. And her door remained locked.

When Mei Lien heard voices in the corridor, she called out for answers, for help, for food, for drink. No one replied.

She used the hidden stash of opium to calm her headaches and shaking for a few hours. But the reprieve was much too short, and she huddled on the floor, unable to stand.

By the third morning, Mei Lien decided that it was better this way. Curled up on the floor, her stomach clenched tight, her headache screaming, she decided that death would be a better option than this . . . than any of this. She supposed she was lucky that Ah-Peen Oie hadn’t kicked her out of the house onto the streets. Or perhaps that would have been merciful.

Mei Lien could only hope that her mother was doing well. It was all that Mei Lien could wish for right now. She knew she could never earn back her contract. Ah-Peen Oie would make certain of that. Mei Lien shouldn’t have been surprised when Ah-Peen Oie entered her room and told her, “You will be sold to another owner. You have a quarter of an hour to make yourself presentable.”

Someone else had entered the room behind the mistress—one of the kitchen girls—and set some water and rice on the bureau.

“No,” Mei Lien croaked out, but Ah-Peen Oie had already left.

The door shut, and Mei Lien was left alone again. She could smell the rice, and her throat begged for water. Crawling, she reached the bureau, then pulled herself up on unsteady legs. She probably ate too fast, but she couldn’t get enough. After drinking all the water, she was still hungry and thirsty, but she wasn’t shaking as badly.

She couldn’t be sold. She couldn’t stay here, either. Time was running out. Would the owner come into her room? Or would she be forced into the banquet room?

Mei Lien sank onto the unkempt bed. What did it matter where she lived? Or worked? Huan Sun wasn’t coming back. And she would never be able to put off a member of the tong such as Zhang Wei. Someone rapped on her door, and Mei Lien flinched.

“They are coming up,” a soft voice said. The kitchen girl.

Was it time already?

Mei Lien rushed to change her clothing. A glance in the tiny mirror told her