She checked the address on the business card, surprised at the building it had led her to: a modern high-rise at the end of the little street. She entered the bottom floor, which featured an arcade of small shops. Passing vendors of beauty products and luxury goods, Audrey eventually arrived at a hole-in-the-wall medicine shop.

Skeptical, she double-checked the address before entering. At the counter was a single customer—a trendy young Chinese woman in a short designer dress, with jewelry that dazzled. The woman was in the midst of purchasing an ornate bottle of rice wine with a tiger on the label. The old woman behind the counter smiled as she handed the woman her change. “Your boyfriend will be very pleased with this,” she assured her. “As will you,” she added with a wink.

The wine went into a decorative gold and red display box, which in turn went discreetly into a brown paper bag. The stylish young woman took it under her arm and left.

Audrey approached the counter, nervously scanning her surroundings as she handed the old woman the business card.

“I was given this card in the hospital. My son is very sick.”

The old woman’s expression grew somber. “Cancer. I see.”

“Can you help him?”

The old woman fetched an overcrowded key ring from a drawer, then crossed to a small, locked cabinet. The keys jangled as she searched for the right one and then unlocked the door. She returned to the counter with a carved wooden box. “I believe this is what you are looking for.”

The old woman opened the box, revealing a small chunk of what looked like grayish wood, with furry fibers hanging off one end. “It filters out foreign substances in the body. Good for first- and second-stage cancer.”

Audrey’s stomach sank. “My son has stage four. Can it help him?”

“There have been many cases where it has been successful,” the woman said with a hint of optimism. “One very important politician here in Hong Kong was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer. He took horn and now he is cancer free. I can’t tell you who he is, because he is a very powerful and respected man.”

Audrey hesitated, uncertain whether to cross the line that she was tiptoeing on. Doing a transaction with a criminal enterprise would fly in the face of everything she stood for as an enforcer of the law. “Where does it come from?”

The woman withdrew a small framed photo from a shelf. It featured a blindfolded rhino lying on the ground as its horn was sheared off by clean-cut white rangers in Africa using a small chainsaw. “The animals are sedated—it doesn’t harm them, and they don’t feel a thing. Even if they were awake, there are no nerves in the horn and it grows back very quickly, like hair. It is all very humane and legal.”

“How does it work?” It, as if not saying the name of the contraband somehow diminished her crime.