“Wait! No!” I shout. “You can’t do this.”
Trench coat man pulls the smoking roll from his lips. The movement sends sparks swirling through the air. Some land, harmless but bright, on my arm. “He’s a murderer, sweetie. We offered him his chance at redemption and he failed. Best say your good-byes.”
“You want the ledger?” I look at the man — smoke fills his lips like a foggy morning, hazing the air between us. “It’s in Longwai’s office! In the top drawer of his desk.”
Dai shakes his head. “It’s not there, Mei Yee. The drawer was empty.”
“But — but it can’t be…” I keep talking so I won’t have to feel the sinkhole growing in my stomach. “It was there. I saw it! I saw it!”
I’m staring at Dai now, pleading for him to believe me.
His eyes are even deeper than they were before. Somber and yawning and full. There’s a smile on his face as he looks at me. “I’m glad you found her,” he says, and nods somewhere past me. I look back to see Jin Ling behind me, limping and shuffling through the cold. The blood she tried so hard to hide is now an undeniable dark on her dress.
“Get him out of here!” the man next to me barks, and waves a hand into the endless night of these streets. They yawn on either side of us, like the great mountain caves in our province. The ones the spirits lived in, waiting for sacrifices that stopped coming years ago.
“No!” I reach out, try to grab him, but the officer shoves Dai forward, rougher this time, off into the crowd of people.
It’s not the darkness of the street that devours him. It’s the crowd of black suits and handcuffs that finally hides him from my eyes. Instead, I see Longwai — hands bound tight behind him, being dragged by police through the trash and dirt. His one arm is bent the way Sing’s was so long ago, smearing blood and broken.
Part of me feels that I should be happy — seeing him like this. After everything he’s done. To me. To Sing. To all the other shivering, sapped girls gathered under the lone sapphire streetlamp. But I can only look at such brokenness and feel it inside me, echoing long and far, deeper than the darkness between stars.
DAI
The handcuffs are too tight. I can’t feel my fingers anymore, but my shoulder is a different story. It’s like the end of an unknotted rope: fibers twisting, pulling, fraying, coming apart. It doesn’t really help that the cop behind me is shoving and jostling like a half-rate taxi ride. I know better than to complain, though. I had my chance. I had more than my chance.
I can only imagine what my father will say, if he ever comes to see me. I can just picture him, sitting with his flawless business suit and mostly gray hair. He’ll stare through the inches of Plexiglas. All those years of masking his emotions at business meetings and cocktail parties won’t be enough to hide the disappointment on his face. He’ll lean close to his microphone and say, “You should have run.”
I’m beginning to think that myself until I see Mei Yee. Her face is flushed, like she’s been running. Even though she’s dressed in my clothes, hair pulled back, everything about her seems brighter. More alive.
She doesn’t even blink when Tsang calls me a murderer. She’s still looking at me with her nautilus stare. Dusting the sand off my soul and seeing the best parts. The ones that Hiro saw. The ones he tried to tell me about.
And then I see Jin Ling behind her, hobbling desperately to be with her sister. Together again after so many years.
I see them, almost side by side (the way Hiro and I used to walk when we scoured the seashore), and there’s no room for doubt.
It was worth it.
JIN LING
I can’t run and scream at the same time. There’s too much hurt. Not enough air. I can barely even walk with the extra weight around my leg. The distance is short, but it takes me ages. When I finally reach Mei Yee and the smoking man, Dai is gone. Sucked into the tide of criminals and Security Branch.
“W-wait!” I’m wheezing, bent over. Trying to ignore my sunburst pain. The wound is catching up, draining me of my last, vital reserves. “Bring him b-back!”
“If you want to see him, you’ll have to arrange a visitation at the correctional institution.” A frown crosses the man’s face. I think it’s because he’s almost done with his cigarette. “Can’t tell you which one yet.”
“I have what you want.”
This seems to get his attention. He swivels around on his heels. Looks at me. The extra skin of his neck bunches into his chin.
“And what might that be?”
I’m about to reach for it, but I take a longer look at the man’s face. It’s lit up. Orange and hellish. “Bring Dai back and I’ll show you.”
The man scowls and tosses his cigarette to the ground. He doesn’t even bother stamping it out. He disappears into the crowd, calling after Dai and his officer.
I watch the cigarette die. Just one more piece of trash to step on.
Mei Yee stares at it, too. “Do you really have it?”
Before I can answer, the man is back. A bewildered officer and Dai follow him like toy train cars. All three of them stare. Waiting.
I reach down to the binding on my thigh, where Dai’s revolver is wedged tight against the cloth. My hand grabs what it needs out of the thick, stretchy fabric. Pulls.
The man in the trench coat stares. His mouth is open, oddly empty without his cigarette. His hands stretch out. Reaching desperately for what I’m holding.
I reached for it the same way, when the music girl, Nuo, and a girl named Wen Kei showed me what they were hiding. After Longwai barreled through the lounge and blocked all ways to Dai, Nuo grabbed my wrist. Took me back to her room. Her chest was puffed up when she tugged the ledger from under her bed. The pride was in her words, too, when she explained how she snuck up Longwai’s stairs while he was busy questioning Mei Yee. Used hairpins on the locks. A skill she inherited from a girl named Sing.
I pull the book back. Away from the man. The dragon’s gold leafing shines almost green under the streetlights. I hug the soft red leather to my aching chest. It fits well there. “Let Dai go. Like you promised.”
The man stares at the cornerstone book. There’s something like relief in his eyes. In the part of his lips. He turns back to the officer holding Dai. “Uncuff him.”
I wait until the cuffs are completely off. Dai’s arms fall free. The right one heavy and awkward. Dai cradles it tenderly as I hand over Longwai’s book of secrets. The cigaretteless man flips through the pages. His lips are together now. Pulled up into a smile.
“Longwai’s ass on a platter,” he says. Snaps the cover shut like a dragon’s jaws.
“We good, Tsang?” Dai’s syllables are dislocated, sweating with effort and pain. I can’t listen to him without remembering my own hurt.
“It’s after midnight. And technically you weren’t the one to hand over the book. But…” The man — Tsang — reaches into his trench coat. Pulls out a white fold of paper. “I’m in a good mood. I’ll give you this one, Sun Dai Shing.”
Dai takes the paper with hungry fingers. Clenching so tight the edges rumple. He thrusts it deep, deep into the pocket of his hoodie.
Tsang tucks the ledger under his arm. Looks at each of us in turn. Eyes gleaming. “Take my advice, kids. Get out of Hak Nam. They’ll be tearing it down. Turning it into a park.”
“That’s the plan,” I tell him. I look back at my sister.
“Good luck with that.” Tsang turns to go.
“Wait!” Mei Yee’s cry stops him midstep. “What — what’s going to happen? To Longwai? To all the girls?”