Shanghai Girls (Shanghai Girls #1)(119)

Later still, I hear water running in the bathroom and the toilet flush. I hear Joy opening and shutting her drawers in the linen closet. As silence finally settles over the house, my mind goes to deeper and darker places. My sister has made me think about things in a whole new way, but none of that changes what happened to Sam. I’ll never forgive her for that! Except… except… maybe she was right about seeking amnesty. Maybe not voluntarily stepping forward was a dreadful mistake on Sam’s and my parts, which resulted in terrible tragedy for Sam. But why hadn’t May told us she was going to report us, even if it was for our own good? I know the answer too well: Sam and I were always afraid of anything new. We were afraid to leave the family and go out on our own, afraid to leave Chinatown, afraid to let our daughter become what we said we wanted her to be: American. If May had tried to tell us, we wouldn’t have been able to hear her.

I know that, in the worst of my Dragon aspects, I can be stubborn and proud. Cross a female Dragon and the sky will fall. Indeed, tonight the sky has fallen, but I need to tell Joy that she is and will always be my daughter and that no matter what she feels about me or Sam or her auntie, I will love her forever and ever. I will make her understand how much she’s been loved and protected and how much pride I have in her as she begins her life. I have ten thousand hopes that she’ll forgive me. As for May, I don’t know if I can find a way to absolve her or even if I want to. I don’t know if I want to have a relationship with her at all, but I’m willing to give her a chance to explain everything to me again.

I should go out to the screened porch, wake them up, and do all this right now, but it’s late and it’s quiet out there and too much has happened on this terrible night.


“WAKE UP! Wake up! Joy is gone!”

I open my eyes to my sister shaking me. Her face is frantic. I sit up, fear pulsing through my body.

“What?”

“It’s Joy. She’s gone.”

I’m up, out of the room, and running to the screened porch. Both beds look to me like they’ve been slept in. I take a breath and try to relax.

“Maybe she’s gone for a walk. Maybe she went to the cemetery.”

May shakes her head. Then she looks down at a piece of crumpled paper she holds in her hand. “I found this on her bed when I woke up.”

May smoothes the paper and hands it to me. I begin to read:

Mom,

I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t understand this country anymore. I hate that it killed Dad. I know you’ll think I’m confused and foolish. Maybe I am, but I have to find answers. Maybe China is my real home after all. After everything Auntie May told me last night, I think I should meet my real father. Don’t worry about me, Mom. I have great belief in China and everything Chairman Mao is doing for the country.

Joy



I take a breath, and the pounding in my heart slows. I know that Joy can’t possibly mean what she’s written. She’s a Tiger. It’s her nature to flail and strike out, which is exactly what she’s done in her note, but there’s no possible way she’s done what she’s written here. May seems to believe it though.

“Has she really run away?” May asks when I look up from the letter.

“I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be either.” I’m irritated with May for starting the day with more drama when I hoped to talk things through, but I put a reassuring hand on her arm, trying to keep some semblance of calm between us. “Joy was upset last night. We all were. She probably went over to the Yees’ house to talk to Hazel. I bet she’ll be home for breakfast.”

“Pearl.” My sister swallows and then inhales before continuing. “Last night Joy asked about Z.G. I told her I think he still lives in Shanghai since his magazine covers always show something about the city. I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s gone.”

I wave off the idea. “She’s not going to China to look for Z.G. She can’t just get on a plane and fly to Shanghai.” I tick off the reasons on my fingers, hoping logic will soothe May’s concerns. “Mao took over the country eight years ago. China is closed to Westerners. The United States doesn’t have diplomatic relations—”

“She could fly to Hong Kong,” May cuts in haltingly. “It’s a British colony. From there she could walk into China, just like Father Louie used to hire people to walk tea money in to his family in Wah Hong Village.”

“Don’t even think that. Joy is not a Communist. All that talk has been just that—talk.”

May points to the note. “She wants to meet her real father.”

But I refuse to accept what my sister is saying. “Joy doesn’t have a passport.”

“Yes, she does. Don’t you remember? That Joe boy helped her get one.”

At that, my knees buckle. May grabs me and helps me to the bed, where we sit down. I begin to weep. “Not this. Not after Sam.”

May tries to comfort me, but I’m inconsolable. It’s not long before guilt takes over.

“She hasn’t just gone to find her father.” My words come out ragged and broken. “Her whole world has been split apart. Everything she thought she knew was wrong. She’s running away from us. Her real mother … and me.”

“Don’t say that. You are her real mother. Look at the letter again. She called me Auntie and you Mom. She’s your daughter, not mine.”