The Paper Daughters of Chinatown - Heather B. Moore Page 0,82

it.

Hurrying inside, ignoring the stares of the handful of diners, she headed for the kitchen in the back. She approached the oldest person in the kitchen—a woman—and held out a single pearl. The older woman’s eyes widened.

Mei Lien knew she looked like a drowned rat, but she didn’t let her appearance dissuade her. “I will give you this in exchange for directions to Huan Sun’s tailoring shop.”

The woman reached quickly for the pearl. But Mei Lien was quicker. She snapped her fingers into a fist and withdrew her hand. “Do you know Huan Sun?”

“No,” the woman said. “But I can find anything and anyone.”

“This is true,” a young man said as he stirred something in a sizzling skillet.

The woman harrumphed. Mei Lien was out of options. “All right.” She opened her hand and placed the pearl in the woman’s hand. Within seconds, the woman had hidden the pearl someplace within her clothing.

“Sit there.” The woman pointed to a greasy stool in the corner of the kitchen. Then she disappeared.

Mei Lien kept her eyes lowered even though she knew the young man kept watching her. It seemed like hours before the older woman returned, but it couldn’t have been more than a half hour.

“Three streets over,” the woman said. “Next to the butcher shop.”

“I can take you once we close,” the young man said.

“No,” Mei Lien was quick to say. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust any man other than Huan Sun. Their relationship might be over, but she believed him to be an honest and fair man. In her heart, she knew he would aid her if he could, or at least give her guidance about how to stay safe. “Draw me a map. I will find it.”

A few minutes later, Mei Lien found herself outside in the dark again. The rain had ebbed, but the cold bit through her thin clothing. She hurried along the street, keeping her eyes and ears tuned to any danger in the silent alleys. Hoping that the woman and her son had given her the right information, she slowed when she reached the final turn.

And there it was. Sun Tailoring. Mei Lien’s body slumped in relief. But she wasn’t in the clear yet. All was dark inside, which made her wonder if he still owned the place. Since she didn’t want to attract attention by knocking, she headed into the alley on the side of the shop and found a narrow door. She tried the knob but found it locked.

Tears came fast. What if Huan Sun was gone? For good? She sank onto the ground and huddled against the door. She was exhausted, hungry, wet, cold. She had come so far, yet she still felt lost.

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. She would wait until the morning and hope that Huan Sun would come and find her. If he wasn’t here, then there was nowhere else for her to go. Ah-Peen Oie wouldn’t take her back. Earning money for a passage back to Hong Kong would be futile because she didn’t have any papers with her or money to buy false papers.

The rain stopped, but the dripping in the alley continued. The sound made her feel like it was her life that was dripping away. Bit by bit. Drip by drip.

“Oh, Mother,” she whispered. “I hope you will never learn of my fate. I hope you have happiness all the remainder of your days.”

“Mei Lien?” someone said.

It was a dream, only a dream. A nice dream. One in which Huan Sun had found her and brought her into his shop.

Then she realized she was truly being carried into a building. She could no longer hear the dripping rain, and the deep cold had eased somewhat.

His voice came again. “How did you get here?”

Now, that was a strange question. She had walked, of course. But that wasn’t what he was asking.

Mei Lien dragged her eyes open. She was sitting on a cot inside some sort of storage room, if the stacked crates were any indication. Personal effects were scattered about. A cracked lamp on a small table. A chipped teacup. A closet door partway open. Was this his bedroom, too? And . . . Huan Sun was looking down at her. He looked both the same and different. His boyish face was achingly familiar, and those laugh lines were still about his eyes. Yet he had violet circles beneath his eyes, making him look tired. She felt a pressure on her hand,