It was all so busy and lively, so normal. Meirong would’ve made up a story to tell about the young men, about the florist shop assistant. But there was no Meirong, and now the only person Lian wanted was her mother. Not Shao, not Sparrow. Her mother. Her mother would’ve told her that the hard knot of pain in her chest wasn’t just because of Meirong. That it was all the tears she had been holding back since leaving Nanking, tears she had not allowed herself to cry over all the tragedies she had witnessed.

But if she started crying, she never would’ve stopped. Not for days.

Below, traffic moved and pedestrians filled sidewalks, the hundred small dramas of life on the street continued. Lian stood at the window until she was cold then moved stiffly into the kitchen, where she ran water into the kettle. She wasn’t hungry but she wanted to warm her hands around a bowl of hot water.

When the doorbell rang she considered not answering. It was probably Shao, checking on her. But she was living in property his family owned, so she couldn’t refuse. She opened the door to Sparrow, glowing in the dim light of the hallway.

“I heard about Meirong. How terrible,” Sparrow said. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” There was something in her voice that frightened Lian.

She came inside and gently led Lian to the couch. “I have news, Lian. It’s good news, but you must be strong.” Her hands pressed tightly around Lian’s. “I found your mother.”

Lian gave a little cry. “Where? Where is she?”

“She’s at West Gate Hospital on Siccawei Road,” Sparrow said. “Lian, she thought you were dead. She tried to kill herself.”

Chapter 35

Shao rushed to West Gate Hospital after reading the note Sparrow left him. She had found Lian’s mother at the Southern Baptist Mission’s refugee camp. Or rather, she learned that Lian’s mother had been working in their administrative office but was now in the hospital. She was taking Lian to see her mother.

He found Sparrow waiting in the corridor outside the ward.

“How is her mother?” he said, instinctively lowering his voice to a whisper. “What happened?”

“A letter of condolence from Minghua,” Sparrow said. Shao groaned.

Before anyone realized her intentions, Lian’s mother had run up to the second floor of the Mission’s offices, the highest building on the property, then thrown herself out a window. From such a height, she had broken her leg and briefly lost consciousness. And now she was in the hospital, lying in one of seven beds crammed into a room meant to sleep four patients.

“What can I do?” he said. “Does the hospital need payment?”