I wrapped my fingers around the deadbolt and slid the lock free. That was as far as I got before I stumbled and fell.
“Mom!” Marigold exclaimed. “Your leg—”
Mylegs.
They were flickering, the outline of my blue pants blurred. Marigold grabbed my arm with both hands as if to tether me to this world.
It was the opposite. “Let go,” I said roughly. I sounded harsh, but really it was fear that churned my voice thick. “Don’t touch me—or you...”
You might disappear too.
My hand flickered next, and Marigold clung tighter. I twisted away just before my entire arm fragmented into nothing, and Marigold let out a cry. My gold bracelet—the one I never took off if I could help it—glittered in her grasp. Seeing it was a cruel comfort. At least it wouldn’t disappear with the rest of me.
“Marigold,” I whispered. There was something I needed to tell her, and so much I regretted now that I no longer had the time. Tears burned in my eyes, but their heat wouldn’t be enough to save me.
A plummeting feeling sharpened in my gut, like an unwanted somersault. It was happening. Cold swept over my eyes, so I couldn’t see. It fell over my ears, so I couldn’t hear. Before it stole over my lips, I choked, drowning on air, “My shadow... find Lily.”
Marigold touched my cheek, for there was little else of me left. If she was crying, I could not see her. If she was calling my name, I could not hear her. But her hands were warm and moist, like high summer in Tunglam.
That was my last thought before the dark claimed me and I vanished.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Marigold
“There’s no Harbourage Road,” the taxi driver told Marigold.
“That’s impossible.” She unfolded her map. “Look here—”
“Your map’s old, lo,” he said, his cigarette bobbing as he looked her up and down. In spite of her near-perfect Cantonese, he could probably smell that she was American. “Okay, I’ll take you. Two hundred dollars, yeah?”
“Two hundred dollars!”
“No one goes up those roads anymore. Hard picking up passengers on the way back.”
It was highway robbery. Marigold knew it, the cabbie knew it. But she was desperate. “I only have one hundred.”
“Ai,” he said, muttering a curse. “Fine, get in, get in.”
Just as she was about to get into the cab, there was a loud honking from behind.
“Didn’t I tell you not to take a taxi?”
It was Edison, shouting from his car. She’d forgotten about him.
“Sorry, traffic in Central was bad,” he said when she jumped into his passenger seat. Behind, the taxi driver was cursing at her. “Where’s Aunty?”
“I need to go to this address,” said Marigold with neither explanation nor greeting. She pointed at her map. “Twelve Harbourage Road.”
“That’s in Happy Valley, the opposite direction from lunch.” Edison lifted an eyebrow. “Does that mean no yum cha?”
“It’s an emergency.” What was she thinking? They were supposed to get dim sum with Edison’s mom—of course he couldn’t take her. “You know what, I’ll just call another—”
“Don’t you dare. Mum’ll kill me if I leave you stranded.” Edison slipped on his sunglasses. “Buckle up, you’re giving directions.”
Twenty minutes later, they were speeding down Wong Nai Chung Road into Happy Valley.
“Make a left here,” said Marigold, tracing their route with her finger. “We’ll stay on this street until you see the temple.”
