his watch. “You slept really well — it’s nearly nine o’clock.”
“Still Friday?”
“Yes.”
“Where are my people?”
Hop said, “He is nearby; let me phone him. Now I think you should lie down again.”
She lay on her back, memories of that morning dancing in and out of her head. It hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but then, when did it? “Thank you, Saint Jude, for Sonny,” she muttered, and then wondered if Saint Jude would appreciate being thanked for the deeds they had done. “And thank you for May Ling.”
Hop swung the door open and held it back for Uncle. In the dim light he looked older than she could ever remember seeing him. He came to the bed, reached for her hand, and then bent over and kissed her on the forehead. “I have never seen you like this before,” he said. “Quite the day.”
“I don’t remember anything after we left the house.”
“Sonny called me from the car and told me what happened. He did not think he could get you past Immigration in Macau or Hong Kong. I told him to bring you here. Hop is a friend, a good man in an emergency and someone who knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“How long does he think I’ll have to stay here?”
“Up to you and how you are feeling. You lost a lot of blood, but he tells me he has replaced it and it is now just pain management on your part.”
“I want to get out of here as soon as I can.”
Uncle said, “I have a bag in the outer room with clothes in it. May talked the Mandarin into letting her into your room.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she felt a surge of uncontrolled emotion. She closed her eyes, trying to shut it out. “I shot Lok.”
“I know. Sonny told me.”
“I executed him. I put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.”
“Ava, there was no other choice,” Uncle said, gripping her hand tighter. “I spoke to Sonny yesterday before he left and reminded him what kind of men Wu and Lok were.”
“I have never killed anyone in cold blood. Before it was always —”
“You or them? Well, let me tell you, I do not think this was any different in reality.”
“I’m supposed to be an accountant,” she said, her voice cracking.
Uncle grinned at her, and despite herself she found a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Then she began to cry in earnest.
He held her hand, wiping her tears with a tissue.
“Could you get my clothes, please? And I’ll need someone to help me get dressed.”
“There is a nurse outside. I will get her,” he said.
The same nurse who had come into the room with Hop returned, bringing the bag with her. She emptied the contents on the bed.
Ava sat on the edge of the bed, gathering the willpower to stand. Finally she put her hands on the nurse’s shoulders and slid to the ground. Pain burst along the entire length of her leg. She winced and groaned.
“You need to move,” the nurse said. “The pain will ease the more you use the leg.”
Ava nodded. She put on the black T-shirt herself, forgoing a bra, and then handed her panties to the woman. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to help me with these.”
The nurse knelt down, put Ava’s feet into the panties, and then slid them gently up her legs. She repeated the process with her track pants.
Ava leaned back against the bed. “Do you have crutches?”
“I’ll get them,” the nurse said.
A few minutes later, Ava hobbled out to a small waiting room, where Hop was chatting with Uncle. “Take me home, please,” she said.
Hop handed her an envelope. “Tylenol 3 — take one whenever you need it. There is no virtue to being in pain when it isn’t necessary.”
“I have a car waiting outside,” Uncle said to Ava, and then turned to Hop. “I was pleased to find that you are still here after all these years.”
“I provide a service that always seems to be in demand in Macau.”
( 30 )
A Mercedes-Benz S-Class was idling at the hospital entrance. Ava eased into the back seat next to Uncle. The front passenger seat had been pushed all the way forward so she could stretch out her leg completely.
As the car pulled away from the clinic, Ava turned to Uncle and said, “How did the rest of the day go for everyone else?”