Page 2 of Shadowing You

But not yet free.

She secured the envelope in the inside pocket of her jacket, which had been returned to her with the rest of the clothes she’d worn when she was arrested. Her sweater hung off her bony shoulders, and she’d had to fold over the waistband of her jeans to keep them from falling down. The sneakers were old but so much better than the cotton-soled slippers she’d worn in prison. And she’d nearly cried when she’d seen the socks.

Her feet were warm for the first time in months.

She turned her phone over in her hand. The warden had charged it, a surprising kindness. Though Mei Lin hadn’t done more than light up the screen, it was already drained to sixty-three percent. How long would it last if she made a call?

She would never make it to the border and out of China without more money. And she was desperate, desperate, to get out of China.

She pulled up her husband’s number, filed under the name Doctor America.

She’d given him the moniker when she first met him on a mission trip in Central America. She’d been helping dispense medications. He’d been assisting the physicians. She hadn’t been the only woman there who’d been drawn to the handsome student. Why he’d focused his attention on her, Mei Lin had never understood.

The bus moved faster as they left the bulk of the traffic behind, the city thinning into clusters of gray apartment blocks and then into open farmland, brown in the late fall. She waited until the last tall building dropped below the horizon behind her.

Then, after a prayer for courage, she dialed.

It rang four times.

“Hello?” His voice was lower than she remembered, resonating through her like a vibration.

“Ethan?” She swallowed a sob that clogged her throat. “It’s me. I’m out.”

Silence. Two seconds, maybe three.

“Who is this?” He sounded angry. “How did you get this number?”

The words were a slap.

How could he not know her?

She would end the call in a fit of fury if she didn’t need his help. “It’s me, Ethan,” she said, then added, “Mei Lin.” As if he might have forgotten his wife’s name.

“It can’t—” He stopped. “Mei Lin? Is it really you?” Disbelief and…something else carried over the line. Wonder, maybe. Hope?

“I need your help.” She kept her volume low, hoping nobody sitting nearby was listening or spoke good English. “I need to get to Hong Kong. A ticket on the high-speed⁠—”

“I don’t understand. They told me⁠—”

“My phone will not last. Can you help me? Send money?”

A long pause. “Are you safe?”

“I-I don’t know.” Honest, if not reassuring. “Right now, I think yes, but I must leave.”

“What’s going on, sweetheart? Where have⁠—?”

“There’s no time. I will explain. But right now⁠—”

“Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll get you a flight, just tell me⁠—”

“I’ll take a train from Zhengzhou to Hong Kong.”

“Okay, I’ll get you a⁠—”

The call dropped.

She pulled the phone from her ear and looked at the screen. It was dead.