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When I don’t respond, his gaze drops from me to the book on the floor. He picks it up. His lips press into a firm line. “You’ve been reading this?” he asks, still holding my arm.
I nod. “It’s...horrifying.”
He releases me to close the book. I want to run. The cruelty of men knows no bounds, and a member of a triad might be no different than a soldier bent on conquest.
But Rafe seems to be elsewhere. On the outside, he appears cool and collected, but I sense something else going on inside him.
Confirming my sensations, he says, “My family lived these horrors.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
To stifle my dismay, I cover my mouth. Not knowing if he wants to talk about it, I don’t say anything.
“My grandmother was one of the rape victims,” he said after several beats of silence. “But before she was raped, she was beaten and cut. The half a dozen or so soldiers in the house had already killed and dismembered the boys and men. As my grandmother’s rapist orgasmed, she managed to get the bayonet from his gun and stab him. The other soldiers were busy raping her mother, sister, and even her grandmother, as well as the servants. My grandmother somehow made it to the Nanking Safety Zone. She was cared for in the home of John Rabe.”
“John Rabe?” I echo, too afraid to ask for more details about the other aspects of his story.
“There were many Westerners living in Nanjing in 1937, conducting trade or missions,” Rafe said as he returned the book to the desk. “After the Japanese started bombing the city, only about two dozen chose to stay. John Rabe, a German, was one of them. He was working for Siemens and, as a member of the Nazi Party, officially represented Germany at the time. He helped establish the Nanking Safety Zone, which saved hundreds of thousands of Chinese civilians from the Japanese Army.”
“What happened to your grandmother after she made it to the Safety Zone?” I ask quietly.
“At the age of fifteen, she gave birth to my aunt. After the Japanese abolished the Safety Zone, she spent most of the war trying to avoid the Japanese Army. After the war, she went back to the family home, which had long ago been ransacked.”
He gazes upon the periodical with the feature of Haruto Matsudo.
“The art pieces being loaned for the Asian Pacific Art Museum exhibit—are they all from your family?” I ask.
“Not all, but many, including the jade figurine of Madam Yang, belonged to my family. The Matsudo family claims they purchased the pieces from a private art dealer. Matsudo’s father was the one who raped my grandmother. She heard his name from his fellow soldiers. He also talked about inventing a candy using the blood of Chinese babies that, when consumed, could enhance a man’s vitality.”
I feel myself pale. “That’s beyond disgusting.”
Rafe looks at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite before lunch.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m not hungry right now anyway. And as awful as this history is, it’s important for us to learn about it. I think.”
Or maybe it’ll give the wrong people ideas.
