Part 9 (2/2)
She felt ambushed. ”I . . . well . . . I . . . I did, Papa.”
The pressure on her shoulder intensified as his fingers dug into her tunic. ”Why?”
”I went to visit Natasha.”
Natasha Lazarev, who had lived with her family near the Adlers' apartment, was the first friend Hannah had made upon landing in Shanghai. But in recent years, as their lives and interests diverged, they had seen less of each other.
Her father's eyes simmered, but his tone remained calm. ”And you didn't think to ask me before leaving?”
”You . . . you were at the hospital.”
”Which is not so far from home.”
She looked away. ”I didn't think it was necessary.”
”Not necessary?” His voice rose in volume and pitch. He glanced over either shoulder before gritting his teeth and continuing in a hushed, angry tone. ”Not necessary to tell me that you planned to stroll out of this . . . this prison as though you were just off to the park? How could you be so foolish?”
She s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot. ”I should have told you, Papa.”
He stared at her for a long painful moment. ”There was a time, Liebchen, not so long ago, when we shared everything.”
His disappointment pierced her deeper than his harsh words. She was overcome by remorse along with a sudden urge to confess everything: her feelings for Freddy, the smuggled brooch, Ghoya's outburst and the priceless chocolate bar. But for reasons that she didn't fully understand, she lowered her head and said only, ”Next time I will ask, Papa.”
CHAPTER 15.
As always, Sunny felt strangely at home inside the brothel. She had visited Jia-Li intermittently at the Comfort Home since they were both teenagers. Most of the prost.i.tutes welcomed Sunny like an old friend. The proprietor, Chih-Nii, had been playfully trying to recruit her for years. ”Half Eastern, half Western, you would be a delicacy to both worlds,” the madam would say. ”We could make a fortune together, my Eurasian b.u.t.tercup.”
Us.h.i.+ had escorted Sunny into the drawing room, then went in search of Jia-Li, leaving her alone on the chaise longue. Sunny studied the paintings that had belonged to the house's original French owners, wondering again why the portraits still hung on the walls. Perhaps Chih-Nii thought they imbued the room with a sense of history or European flair? Sunny found them depressing. She was relieved not to have left any pictures of her family behind when she and Franz had been forced out her parents' home. She cringed at the idea of someone using photographs of her parents to add character to her old home.
Jia-Li entered the room in a form-fitting, embroidered maroon cheongsam, slit up one side to the top of her thigh. Her bright lipstick was perfectly applied, and not a strand of hair was out of place, but to Sunny, Jia-Li was never quite as composed as she pretended to be at the Comfort Home. While Sunny was well aware of the circ.u.mstances that had forced her friend into this world, she never understood how someone as beautiful and intelligent could continue to sell her body. Or why, now that she had been free of the opium pipe for over a year, she still needed to. She thought about Jia-Li's recent financial generosity toward the Adlers with another flush of guilt.
”I thought I was meeting you Thursday,” Jia-Li said as she kissed the air on either side of Sunny's face.
Sunny took in the smells of cinnamon and jasmine. ”I am sorry, bao bei, this could not wait.”
Jia-Li lowered herself into the chair beside Sunny, lighting a cigarette as she did. She brought her lips to the holder and inhaled languidly, then broke into a luminous smile. ”I welcome any visit from you, regardless of the reason, xio he.”
”You might not say that after you hear me out.”
”Let me guess,” Jia-Li said through a stream of smoke. ”You want to speak to Simon.”
”Very much so. But that's not why I have come.”
Jia-Li arched a painted eyebrow. Sunny glanced around suspiciously. ”We are alone,” Jia-Li a.s.sured her. ”You can speak freely.”
Sunny was tempted to tell Jia-Li about her meeting with Wen-Cheng. Sharing her secret would have been a huge relief, but somehow the subject felt too raw to broach inside the confines of a brothel. Instead, she said, ”There is a patient at our hospital. A Chinese man with a nasty leg infection.” She paused. ”From a gunshot.”
Jia-Li released an elegant ring of smoke. ”I take it this man is wanted by the Rbn guzi?”
”He would be if the j.a.panese knew he was in the city. Very much so.” Sunny nodded. ”We cannot keep him at the refugee hospital. He stands out like a sore thumb, as Simon would say. Besides, there is nowhere to hide him.”
”Shanghai used to be the easiest place in the world to lose yourself,” Jia-Li said wistfully. ”But such hiding places have become another precious commodity, haven't they?”
”Bao bei, I hoped that maybe . . .”
”How sick is he, Sunny?”
”He could lose his leg at any time. He might not even survive long enough to be moved anywhere.”
Jia-Li shook her head. ”He would only fare worse here. It's so musty downstairs.”
”At least he would be safe.”
”Safe?” Jia-Li gasped. ”The Kempeitai have raided us twice more since the day Franz and Esther came with the baby. Chih-Nii is beside herself. She is refusing to take in anyone else. And she is desperately trying to get rid of the ones who are still here. There is talk of trying to sneak them out to the country.”
Sunny had not held out much hope that the Comfort Home could help Charlie, but she still felt a sting of disappointment.
”Look at you, xio he.” Jia-Li leaned forward and stroked Sunny's cheek with the back of her hand. ”It breaks my heart to see you so sad.”
”There is nothing more to be done for this man. We cannot keep him. He will die, and we might die because of him.”
”There is always something.” Jia-Li laughed quietly. ”Besides, there are no rules left in Shanghai. Only guidelines. I will speak with Chih-Nii. We will figure out a way.”
Sunny kissed the back of her friend's hand. ”Thank you.”
Jia-Li leaned back in her seat pensively. ”This man? Is he part of the Underground?”
”No. He is a soldier.”
Jia-Li nodded. ”Ah, a member of the Kuomintang? That will be tricky.”
”Not exactly the Kuomintang.”
Jia-Li sat up straighter. ”If he's not Kuomintang-”
”He fights for the Communist army, though he is not politically inclined himself.”
”The Communists!” Jia-Li sprang out of her chair. She looked around urgently, then murmured, ”Your soldier would be in greater danger here than with the Rbn guzi.”
”You can't be serious!”
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