someone who knows you and see yourself in the process. Li Mei broke their embrace and sat down, her silence invitation enough for Sally.

She told Li Mei everything, starting with her trip to Tokyo and leading to the events of the night before. Li Mei’s ancient face cracked at times, new creases lining her brow, but she said nothing. Something in Sally’s eyes told the old woman that this was just a preamble.

When she had finished, Sally stared at Li Mei for a full minute before speaking again, her eyes calm. “Li Mei, how did you know about the school?” she asked quietly. “About the Triads?”

Li Mei opened her mouth and hesitated, just for an instant, but it was answer enough. Sally leaned forward and took the old woman’s right hand in hers and said, “You stepped through the red gate, didn’t you?”

Li Mei’s eyes betrayed her.

“You went to the school as a girl,” Sally continued, “and became a consort. A concubine. A spy.”

The old woman nodded, her eyes going out of focus with the memory. “Yes, child. For a very long time, that was my life.”

Sally squeezed her hand, then nodded. “That’s how you knew Xan.”

“Yes,” Li Mei replied. “I wanted to give you…a choice.” Then added, “And the power to make one.”

Sally ignored the comment. “You said a very long time…how long?”

“What does it matter?”

“Because I’m leaving,” said Sally

Li Mei blanched. “They won’t let you.”

Sally smiled sadly, then let her eyes wander around the walls of the kitchen. “This is such a nice house, Li Mei.”

“I’m comfortable,” said Li Mei, following Sally’s gaze.

“And you bought it yourself?” asked Sally idly.

Li Mei balked, then yelped as Sally dug her thumb into the soft spot between the old woman’s thumb and forefinger. She tried to pull away but Sally’s grip was firm, and as Li Mei squirmed in her chair, the pressure on her hand slowly increased. Sally looked across the table at her former nursemaid, marveling at how detached she could be about the old woman’s pain. She knew it should bother her but at the same instant knew that it never would.

Sally leaned in close, her voice almost a whisper. “You used me to buy your freedom from the Triad,” she said evenly. Sally realized the answers were there her whole life, but she’d been too blind to see them. “Which means you were still part of the black society when you were working for my parents. Maybe too old to be someone’s concubine, but a spy just the same.”

Li Mei couldn’t meet Sally’s gaze, and tears started to run down her cheeks. She stammered as she began talking. “Your…your father was a very important man in the U.S. Military. He was head of Army Intelligence, stationed in Japan. That’s where he met your mother.”

Sally eased the pressure on Li Mei’s hand but held fast to her wrist.

“The Triads ran many smuggling operations,” said Li Mei. “Some heroin, mostly guns-even people.”

“People?”

“Illegals from China, smuggled onto Japanese freighters in Hong Kong,” said Li Mei matter-of- factly, as if telling a friend about the price of pears. “Very profitable.”

“What’s that got to do with my father?”

“The gun trade was a major concern for the Japanese government-there are no guns in Japan by law. And it was also a concern for the U.S. military because guns were disappearing from Army bases. So your father was asked to assist in their investigations.”

Sally’s jaw clenched but she remained motionless. “And you were sent to watch over my father.”

Li Mei nodded.

Sally released her hand. “Tell me about him.”

Li Mei looked up, her cheeks damp, surprised by the question. Over the years Sally spoke of her parents only rarely. “What do you mean?”

“What was he like?” asked Sally. “My father.”

Li Mei took a deep breath, trying to relax. “Your father was a great man.”

A great man. Sally’s brow furrowed, as if the phrase were an oxymoron.

“He treated everyone with respect,” continued Li Mei. “He was honest. He loved your mother, and he adored you.” She smiled at the memory. “At that time, America was held in high regard by many people-and your father, with his blond hair and blue eyes-I think, to me, your father always seemed very American. Of course, I’ve never been there.”

Neither have I, thought Sally. “How do you know he was honest?”

Li Mei’s eyes darted away but came back. There was no lying left in her. “Because they tried to buy him off, get him to stop his investigation. But the first time a gift was left at the house-money in an envelope, left in the mailbox-your father walked into the middle of the street and tore it to pieces. He knew they would be watching the house.”

“And my mother.”

Li Mei smiled sadly. “Smart, beautiful. And she was never afraid-of anything. Just like you. Your parents were…” Li Mei’s voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Sally worked the muscles in her jaw again. She could put this off another hour or just say the words. When they came, she almost spat them across the table.

“My parents were murdered.”

Li Mei’s face broke apart, the tears running down gullies of age too deep to measure. “I…I never knew anything would happen to them, Sally,” she sobbed. “Someone in the society made a deal with the yakuza-they worked out an arrangement for the guns. The next thing I knew, your parents had been driven off the road by a truck. I…never really knew it wasn’t an accident.”

Sally nodded, feeling the puzzle pieces lost in memory take shape. None of it surprised her, but it came with a sickening, awful finality that confirmed she was completely and utterly alone. Since the age of five, she had been a pawn in someone else’s chess game, and there was nothing she could do to knock the pieces off the table and start over. All she could do was leave the table.

Sally stood up, looking down at the woman she’d loved as a child but feeling nothing but disdain. Even pity was beyond her reach now.

“I’m leaving.”

Li Mei looked up, snot running down her nose, her eyes red. “But…they won’t let you.”

Sally laughed, a short barking sound that surprised even her. “You forget where I went to school,” she said simply. Then she turned and walked out the door, leaving the old woman alone with her guilt, her house, and the view of the boats where she used to live.

Chapter Forty-two

San Francisco, present day

The address on the card wasn’t on a map, and Cape knew better than to ask around Chinatown for directions. He’d followed the street numbers to a dead end and assumed at first it reemerged a few blocks later, like so many streets in San Francisco that disappeared into hills or landmarks and showed up a mile away.

But that would take him out of Chinatown, which didn’t make sense, so fifteen minutes later he found himself back at the end of an alley, looking at empty boxes, broken vegetable crates, and shadows, wondering when the

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