A few days later, Sai Ma entered my room without knocking. Her breath was sour with alcohol, mingled with her lavender perfume. Richard trailed her, toting a newspaper. At six years old, he was already reading Chinese and English, and his mother had intentionally turned to the wedding announcements page. He set it on my lap.
“Your older sister can’t read English,” said Sai Ma smugly. “Tell her what it says.”
“Tycoon’s grandson weds in lav—” Richard paused. “What’s this word, Ma?”
“Lavish. It means very grand, very rich.”
“Lavish,” repeated my little brother. “Tycoon’s grandson weds in lavish—”
“Peninsula Hotel ceremony,” Sai Ma finished for him. She regarded me and purposefully raised her voice. “Look, Richard. Tell Yut Ying, what car are they riding in?”
I couldn’t blame Richard, who was innocent of Sai Ma’s schemes and simply liked cars. He cried, “A Rolls-Royce!”
I spared the paper a dispassionate glance. In front of a black Rolls-Royce stood Tommy with Priscilla-Mae, who was preening her neck for the camera, showing off the diamonds on her throat. They wore Western dress—a black tuxedo, a boat-necked white dress—arms interlinked to feed each other Peaksoy straight from the bottles. Bottles withmyface visible in grainy gray ink.
I looked away, unable to bear it.
“Turns out you were part of the wedding after all, Yut Ying,” said Sai Ma, clearly reveling in my reaction.
“Are you done?”
“Now I know why your grandmother gave you your name,” she drawled. “You’re a shadow.Myshadow.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“You scoff, but it’s true. We’re both full of sunken dreams, you and I. Destined to be second wives.” She lifted her head, pearl earrings dangling. “I suppose I should congratulate you.”
“What for? I said I’m not marrying him.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Sai Ma sat on my bed, the silver hairpin in her chignon catching the sunlight. “Poor Yut Ying, so simple in the head.” She crossed her legs. “Let me put it clearly: You’re soiled goods. No one else will marry you now.”
I observed my stepbrother folding airplanes out of the newspapers, then my attention turned to the teapot that Susu had brought this morning. For the third day, I’d poured its contents out the window. Finally, the roiling in my stomach was starting to ease.
“Is that why you poisoned me?” I asked quietly.
Sai Ma’s face darkened. She sent Richard outside, closing the door before she whirled on me. “How dare you spew such drivel in front of my son!”
“I saw the dong quai in the kitchen.”
“What do you know about herbs? We gave you dong quai because you weren’t eating.”
“You gave it to me because you thought I was pregnant.”
I hadn’t been certain before, but the way she paused and asked, “Are you?” confirmed all.
Baba’s pesky stomach ailments, Gu Ma’s indigestion, the nights Yi Gor and I had cursed Hong Kong’s rich and oily foods for the explosion in our bellies. Even the poisoned dumplings Prince Cannonball had eaten in the garden. Sai Ma had been behind them all.
Lily used to teach me English through a fairy tale about a jealous queen who poisoned her stepdaughter with an apple. It had been her favorite story, though now I wondered whether Lily had known about her mother’s penchant. Whether she’d been trying to warn me.
Anger gathered under my skin, turning my voice tremulous. “Do you do it because you’re bored,” I asked, “or is it fun for you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You poison people when something doesn’t go your way. When Gu Ma won’t give you money to spend at Bastion’s, when Baba has too much opium and calls you my mother’s name in front of your friends. I bet you even poisoned Lily so she had to stay inside—”
