“Was it lonely for you?”
“Well, it was all I knew, so it seemed normal to me. I got to know the back rooms of suburban strip-mall restaurants very well, and I was pretty much a bookworm.”
“And what about your father?”
“He died soon after I was born.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sophie said quickly, regretting that she had asked.
“That’s fine—I never knew him.” Rachel smiled, trying to put her at ease. “And anyway, it wasn’t all bad. My mom put herself through night school, got a college degree, and has been a successful real estate agent for many years now.”
“That’s amazing,” Sophie said.
“Not really. We’re actually one of the many clichéd ‘Asian immigrant success stories’ that politicians love to trot out every four years during their conventions.”
Sophie chuckled. “I can see why Nick likes you—you both have the same dry wit.”
Rachel smiled, looking away toward the disco marquee on the jetty.
“Am I keeping you from the dance party? I hear Araminta flew in some famous DJ from Ibiza,” Sophie said.
“I’m enjoying this, actually. It’s the first real conversation I’ve had all day.”
Sophie glanced at the girls—most of whom were now writhing wildly with several of the Italian waiters to the pounding eurotrance-disco music—and shrugged. “Well, with this crowd, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Aren’t these your friends?”
“A few, but most of these girls I don
’t know. I recognize them, of course.”
“Who are they? Are some of them famous?”
“In their own minds, perhaps. These are the more social girls, the type that are always appearing in the magazines, attending all the charity galas. Far too glamorous a crowd for me. I’m sorry, but I work twelve-hour shifts and don’t have the time to go to benefit parties in hotels. I have to benefit my patients first.”
Rachel laughed.
“Speaking of which,” Sophie added, “I’ve been up since five, so I’m going to turn in now.”
“I think I will too,” Rachel said.
They walked down the jetty toward their bungalows.
“I’m in the villa at the end of this walkway if you need anything,” Sophie said.
“Good night,” Rachel said. “It’s been lovely talking with you.”
“Likewise,” Sophie said, flashing that deep-dimpled smile again.
Rachel entered her villa, gladly returning to some peace and quiet after a draining day. None of the lights were on in the suite, but the bright silvery moonlight glimmered through the open screen doors, casting serpentine ripples along the walls. The sea was so still that the sound of the water lapping slowly against the wood stilts had a hypnotic effect. It was the perfect setting for a night swim in the ocean, something she’d never done. Rachel padded toward the bedroom for her bikini. As she passed the vanity table, she noticed that the leather satchel she’d left hanging on the chair seemed to be leaking some sort of liquid. She walked toward the bag and saw that it was completely drenched, with brownish water dripping out of the corner into a large puddle on the bedroom floor. What the hell happened? She turned on the lamp by the table and opened the front flap of her bag. She screamed, jerking backward in horror and knocking over the table lamp.
Her bag was filled with a large fish that had been badly mutilated, blood seeping out from its gills. Violently scrawled on the vanity mirror above the chair in fish blood were the words “CATCH THIS, YOU GOLD-DIGGING CUNT!”
* * *
* Central Provident Fund, a mandatory savings scheme that Singaporeans contribute to each month to fund their retirement, health care, and housing. It’s a bit like the U.S. Social Security program, except that the CPF won’t be going broke anytime soon. CPF account holders earn an average of five percent interest per year, and the government also periodically gifts its citizens with bonuses and special shares, making Singapore the only country in the world that gives dividends to all its citizens when the economy does well. (Now you know why that Facebook fellow became a Singaporean.)
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