My sister?As the word blared inside my head, I cupped my left ear. No, I couldn’t possibly have heard correctly.
Even Gu Ma was stunned. “I thought the betrothal was meant for Yut Ying.”
“Yut Ying is not suited for an upper-class marriage,” replied my stepmother. “She has no dowry, no roots in Hong Kong, nothing to offer.”
“She’s pretty. That’s more than enough.”
“Not for the Tsangs. And she still has a debt to pay.”
“Lily is too young,” Gu Ma insisted. “She’s only twelve.”
“My mother was married when she was twelve,” countered SaiMa.
“Pok Mun, are you going to allow this?”
Before Baba could reply, Sai Ma let out a sigh. “You must think me a callous mother. But with the world as chaotic as it is, it would be a comfort to me knowing that my only daughter’s future is secure.”
It always amazed me how good Sai Ma was at putting on a show. Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears, and her mouth actually trembled. She made Ah Ma’s old fits look like amateur performances.
“Perhaps Grace has a point,” said Baba. “I know you’ve plenty of connections, Sister, but it doesn’t hurt to be prudent and join with another family.”
“Why the Tsangs?” said Gu Ma.
“The family has an untarnished reputation,” Sai Ma replied. “All the men contributed greatly against the enemy; in fact, Mrs. Tsang’s brother works for the British military tribunal.”
For some reason, that information made Gu Ma straighten in her chair. She snuffed her cigarette against her bowl, ashes falling into her soup and floating among the rings of scallions.
My aunt pressed her lips into a line. “She won’t marry right away.”
“No, no. She’s a child, like you say. It’ll simply be a betrothal. Insurance, for her future.”
“And ours,” Baba murmured.
No!I wanted to scream,No you can’t.But a cramp reared deep inside my stomach, shooting up to the back of my ribs. I folded over my bowl in pain.
“I trust your instincts, Seet Ling,” said Baba. “If you think this is right, I’ll call Director Tsang and speak to him about his son. We can make an introduction.”
No,I thought, balling my fists. “Stop—”
Sai Ma clapped. “You’ll see, Husband. This is the perfect match.”
I couldn’t breathe. Tingly sensations fired up and down my skin like shooting stars, and I could feel myself start to disappear. As my soupspoon clattered onto the table, Richard shook my arm. “Gah Jeh? Gah Jeh!”
Another cramp lanced my belly. I let out a cry and toppled off my chair onto the floor.
“Yut Ying!” Sai Ma sprang to her feet. “She’s passed out on the floor.”
The next two days, I was confined to my room. I couldn’t have gotten up even if I wanted to. Just the smell of the magnolia flowers outside my window made me retch.
Gu Ma blamed my illness on my ear injury. “There’s no need to send for Doctor Wong,” she said. “It’s clear that the energies in her body are off balance. She’ll be better after some rest.”
I didn’t believe the prognosis one bit. The pain had come from my stomach, not my ear. But I was too weak to argue.
On Saturday my sister came home. I heard her footsteps from my room—a plodding march in counterpoint to Sai Ma’s birdlike gait. As soon as it was safe, I held my breath and followed them to the third floor.
Lately, there had been a problem with my invisibility. No matter how I concentrated,Icould disappear but my rebellious shadow wouldn’t follow. It would skate along the parquet floor, giving away my hunched form as I hobbled, invisible, to Lily’s room.
I pressed my cheek to her door, and, with the discretion of a soundless breeze, cracked it open a jot.
