She attempted to hide her relief, but I hadn’t missed it.

Now my mouth was suddenly so dry I turned on the cold water and cupped my hand beneath it to drink. Water dribbled down my chin and splattered onto my dress as I straightened up. I grabbed a thick paper towel to soak up the liquid. As I pressed it against my chest, I became aware of the racing of my heart. I flattened my hand there. I thought I could feel it thudding against my palm, ready to run.

—

I didn’t call her. I found a seat in the lobby facing the elevators and pretended to look at my phone while I waited.

I saw my mother before she saw me. She had an unmistakable stride that I recognized through the group of tourists in front of the concierge desk; she walked as if she were onstage. She was wearing a sleeveless black sheath dress, so simple it must have cost a fortune, and heels. She might have flown in late last night from New York, but that would never have stopped her from looking her best.

When she spotted me in the lobby, she waved. I got up to meet her, and we hugged stiffly.

“Hi, Mom.”

She smelled of a light floral perfume, more sharp than sweet. I was instantly back in her New York apartment at a cocktail party where I didn’t know anyone, but everyone there knew I was her daughter.

She held me at arm’s length to examine me, her smile turning pensive. “You look tan,” she observed. “Are you wearing sunscreen when you go outside? You have to be careful to watch your complexion.”

I stepped out of her grasp. “Thanks for your concern.”

I expected her to give me her disappointed look, but instead she said, “We’re so close to Chinatown I thought we’d go have dim sum. I haven’t had good Chinese food in months!”

I was surprised. “Okay.”

She smiled and reached out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’ve already called an Uber.”

The Town Car smelled overpoweringly of pine air freshener. Mom unrolled the window as we descended a steep hill toward the bay. The driver turned right onto a street with worn-looking three-story buildings.

“My cousin Eddie and his family used to live around here,” Mom said. “He told me it was very close to the Fairmont. I invited him to join us, but he’s out of town.”

“How come you’ve never told me about him before?” I asked.

“I’m sure I have. You must not remember.”

Mom rarely talked about her family, and I’d only met her parents once, when they came to New York on vacation. I was thirteen and couldn’t speak Chinese, and they didn’t speak English. Mom had quickly tired of translating, so I mostly remembered not understanding what they were saying.