“I know I’m not the one you came to see,” I said, “but Lily’s not here.”
Prince Cannonball ignored me and sauntered into the pantry.
“There’s one can of luncheon meat left,” I informed him. “I’ve been saving it for you.”
I served him half, putting aside the rest for later.
While he feasted, dark clouds scudded across the harbor. A typical summer sky—it didn’t mean a storm was brewing. But Prince Cannonball had that touch of demon in him, like me. Rain followed when he appeared.
I brought my pots of spring onions and tomatoes inside and shut the window.
The storm arrived that night. Powerful winds assailed Gu Ma’s house, knocking over the bauhinia tree in the courtyard and smashing it into her car. Prince Cannonball woke me with a merciless pounce to my stomach.
I peered out the window. Lily! Lily was outside climbing the gate.
I hurried to let her inside. She had no umbrella, no protection from the storm. Barefoot, she climbed up to the door so drenched that I didn’t see the blood leaking down her knees.
I hugged her fiercely.
In the kitchen, I lit the stove. I stripped her wet clothes and wrapped a blanket around her. Her skin was cold. “Warm yourself here. I’ll get Gu Ma—”
“Don’t,” she said with a cough. She held on to my arm tightly. “They’ll send me back if they find out I’m here.”
“You need medicine—”
“I’ll be better in the morning. Just make me something to eat. Macaroni soup—and luncheon meat if you have it.”
I nodded mutely. I heated some chicken stock with noodles and set the luncheon meat to fry. While I waited for the broth to boil, I went to get some dry clothes for Lily and candles from my room. There was no electricity in the house, and outside the rain had only gotten heavier. No one heard me padding up and down the creaky stairs.
When I returned to the kitchen, Lily was coughing into a handkerchief. I’d brought my old porcelain doll, and the way she impatiently reached for it, nestling her chin against the doll’s black hair, eased some of the worries unsteadying my heart. I helped her dress and dry her hair and put socks on her feet.
“How’d you get here?” I asked, serving her the noodles and nuggets of browned luncheon meat.
“Stole a bicycle.”
“You cycled here—in this storm?”
“I tried to.” Lily was still breathing hard. “It was only raining at first, then the winds got too strong. I hit a rock... and one of tires went flat.” She showed me the scrapes on her knees. “I walked the rest... of the way.”
Lily hadn’t eaten at all, and I took the steaming bowl from her, blowing at a spoonful. Years ago I’d fed Yi Gor like this, when he was sick in the hills. It was a memory I’d forgotten, and dredging it up now brought an ache to my chest. “Eat.”
She sipped at the spoon, barely taking in half.
“Not hungry?”
She didn’t seem to hear me. She was noticing the bare walls, the empty china cabinets and missing draperies. “I wanted to run away months ago,” she said faintly, though I hadn’t asked. “I couldn’t because Mrs. Tsang hid my spectacles. Had to wait until I could get them back.”
I didn’t need to ask how the Tsangs had been treating her—I saw the cane marks on her wrists.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you,” I blurted.
I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. Nothing I could say was worthy of Lily’s forgiveness.
“You would’ve wasted your time,” she replied after a sigh. “The Tsangs have been looking for a way to end the engagement ever since they took Gu Ma’s money. I think they let me get away.”
So much for their being upright and honest people.
“So, how about it, Gah Jeh? Are we still running away together?”
