“Even her father?” Eleanor asked, raising one eyebrow.
“Rachel’s father died a long time ago, you already know that,” Nick said impatiently.
“Well, that’s a very convenient story, isn’t it? But I assure you he’s very much alive,” Eleanor shot back.
“What?” Rachel said, confused.
“Rachel, you can stop pretending, lah. I know all about your father—”
“What?”
“Aiyoh, look at her act!” Eleanor twisted her face mockingly. “You know as well as I do that your father is still alive!”
Rachel looked at Eleanor as if she was talking to a deranged woman. “My father died in a horrible industrial accident when I was two months old. That’s why my mother brought me to America.”
Eleanor studied the girl for a moment, trying to discern whether she was giving the performance of a lifetime or speaking the truth. “Well, I’m sorry to be the one to break the news to you, Rachel. Your father did not die. He’s in a prison outside Shenzhen. I met him myself a few weeks ago. The man was rotting away behind rusty bars, but he still had the nerve to demand an enormous dowry in exchange for you!”
Eleanor took out a faded manila envelope, the same envelope she had been given by the investigator in Shenzhen. She placed three pieces of paper on the coffee table. One was a copy of Rachel’s original birth certificate. The next was a 1992 press clipping about the jailing of a man named Zhou Fang Min, after he had ordered illegal cost-cutting measures that led to a construction accident that killed seventy-four workers in Shenzhen (HUO PENG CONDO TRAGEDY UPDATE: MONSTER JAILED AT LAST! the headline screamed). The third was a notice of a reward from the Zhou family, for the safe return of a baby named Zhou An Mei, who had been kidnapped by her mother, Kerry Ching, in 1981.
Nick and Rachel took a few steps toward the table and stared at the papers in astonishment.
“What the hell did you do, Mum? You had Rachel’s family investigated?” Nick kicked over the coffee table.
Nick’s grandmother shook her head as she sipped her tea. “Imagine wanting to marry a girl from such a family! So disgraceful! Really, Nicky, what would Gong Gong say if he was alive? Madri, this tea needs a little more sugar.”
Nick was livid. “Ah Ma, it’s taken me about twenty years, but I finally understand why Dad moved to Sydney! He can’t stand being around you!”
Su Yi put down her teacup, stunned by what her favorite grandson had just said.
Rachel grabbed at Nick’s wrist urgently. He would never forget the look of devastation on her face. “I think … need air,” she muttered, before collapsing into the wicker tea cart.
* * *
* “Good boy” in Malay.
14
64 Pak Tin Street
HONG KONG
The apartment was not the love nest Astrid had imagined—the living room was tiny, with a green vinyl sofa, three wooden dining-room chairs, and bright blue plastic buckets full of toys taking up one side of the room. Only the muffled sounds of a neighbor practicing “Ballade pour Adeline” on the electric keyboard filled the silence. Astrid stood in the middle of the cramped space, wondering how her life had come to this. How did it get to the point where her husband had resorted to fleeing to this sad romper room?
“I can’t believe you got your dad’s men to track me down,” Michael muttered contemptuously, sitting down on the sofa and stretching his arms out along its back.
“My father had nothing to do with this. Can’t you give me a little credit for having my own resources?” Astrid said.
“Great. You win,” Michael said.
“So this is where you’ve been coming. Is this where your mistress lives?” Astrid finally ventured to ask.
“Yes,” Michael said flatly.
Astrid was silent for a while. She picked up a little stuffed elephant from one of the buckets and gave it a squeeze. The elephant made a muffled electronic roar. “And these are your son’s toys?”
Michael hesitated for a moment. “Yes,” he finally answered.
“BASTARD!” Astrid screamed, throwing the elephant at him with all her might. The elephant bounced off his chest, and Astrid sank to the floor, trembling as her body was racked with violent sobs. “I don’t … care … who you fuck … but how could you do this … to our son?” She sputtered through her tears.