Of course Tommy thought Gu Ma was innocent. He thought the best of everyone. Not me.
It explained everything—my family’s sudden drought of social activity, this awful rush to marry Lily off and deceive the Tsangs into being our relations. Even Gu Ma asking me to spy on the seamstresses so many years ago in case they spread nasty rumors about her.
My imagination raced forward. If the British found Gu Ma guilty, we’d lose the factory, the house, everything. The prospect of shame and poverty didn’t frighten me so much as what it meant for Lily and me running away. It’d be harder to whisk my sister away from home once an investigation began. Which meant I had to act now, save Lily now.
I must have looked panicked, for Tommy’s hand found my arm, holding me firm and steadfast. There came a flip in my stomach as I leaned against him, tucking my head into the sturdy crook of his neck. Turned out therewasone thing I dreaded losing. For though I didn’t have Mama’s sight, I had a feeling the next time Tommy and I saw each other, things would be different.
“If you can’t see me anymore,” I said, “I’ll understand.”
“Why wouldn’t I see you anymore?” His confusion grew. “I’ll always be there for you. I—”
“It’s late,” I said, cutting him off. I rubbed my left ear, which had started to throb painfully. “I need to go home.”
Tommy pressed his lips closed. “I’ll take you.”
Only when I was home did I realize he’d never finished what he was going to say.
Chapter Twenty-One
I hid the money under the bottom drawer of my dresser. Altogether, with every coin I’d been able to pinch and stash away from Gu Ma’s clutches, I had nearly two thousand dollars. A small fortune saved up over five long years.
Going back to the mainland was unthinkable, but if Lily and I changed our names and were careful about whom we trusted, this money could be enough to start a new life in Hong Kong.
Over the next month, we set a date and plotted every detail, from the cost of ferry tickets to Kowloon to where I’d buy hats and trousers to disguise us as young men. But the weekend we were to run away, Lily didn’t come home.
“Where’s Lily?” I asked my father.
Downstairs, Sai Ma and Baba were taking congee for breakfast. Their soupspoons tinkled against the porcelain bowls with a cool serenity. Something was wrong.
“Where are your manners, Yut Ying?” Sai Ma said.
“Good morning, Baba. Good morning, Sai Ma.”
“That’s better.” Only Sai Ma would have makeup on at seven in the morning. As she wiped her mouth, her lipstick left a rusty-red smudge on her napkin.
“Where’s Lily?” I repeated.
“Lily won’t be home until the Qingming Festival,” said Baba, folding his newspaper.
“That’s months from now!” I exclaimed. “There’s a break in the school term for Chinese New Year—”
“She’s left school,” Sai Ma interrupted. “She’s gone to live with her future in-laws.”
It was as if a fearsome wind had struck me. “No,” I whispered. “There hasn’t been a party yet. I thought she wasn’t leaving until after—”
“The Tsangs are humble people. They didn’t see the need for a party to announce the engagement, and neither did we.”
Lies,I thought. If what Tommy told me was true, my family was trying to speed up the betrothal before the Tsangs could change their minds.
I simmered in my chair. Tonight, I decided, I’d sneak into Sai Ma’s room and find the Tsangs’ address. I’d rescue Lily.
Sai Ma was chuckling at me. “Oh, Yut Ying. Still such a country girl, wearing your emotions for everyone to see. You’re planning to run away, aren’t you? Well, it’ll be harder without this.”
I heard a flapping of paper, and my stomach lurched with dread. From her handbag, Sai Ma withdrew a thick wad of money.Mine.
“Susu found this under your dresser,” she said, preempting my question. “How good of you to finally pay off the phonograph.”
Something in my mind fractured. I didn’t think through what might happen next and grabbed Sai Ma by the hair.
