I don’t know if you ended up having children. Torou hasn’t truly talked to our son, Edward, since he left, which was over a decade ago now. Even when Edward returns, the two of them avoid each other, meeting at the dining table, passing cursory words between them. Torou hated how Edward’s leaving impacted Monica, only eight years old at the time. I did too, though not to the same extent. After all, you and I grew up largely without our fathers.

You met my father around what must have been 1939. You had been staying with us for a year by then, and our family had started to adjust to living together. My father’s return upended that progress. Your mother was ousted from her room into ours, and my grandmother, with her only son home, claimed even more authority around the house than before.

It was the first time I had seen my father in seven years. More than half my life had passed before he showed up, a stranger. He had been part of the war effort in a nearby province when it was captured by the Japanese. He escaped and snuck back into Shanghai, where he awaited orders from the underground network.

Of my father’s job, I understood little. Looking back, I see this was on purpose, for his role had been a dangerous one in the intelligence division. He was to gather as much information as he could on Japanese tactics, using whatever means necessary. In other words, he was a spy.

He hadn’t always been a spy. First he was a doctor. He left for the war in the early days, when Japan first marched into China’s northeast in 1931. He was part of an aid effort. I remember him hugging me fiercely, smelling of tobacco and pomade, before he hopped onto the back of an ambulance that pushed its way through the crowd.

Where my mother was small and timid, my father was tall and loud. He always wore a Rolex watch, but it was missing when he arrived. He had been forced to pawn it on his way back. He had to sneak past all sorts of Japanese checkpoints, and apparently had been caught at one, only to bribe his way out when the soldier took an interest in his watch. He asked me to buy him a new one. His good luck charm, he called it. It was too dangerous for him to leave the house though. Our area was technically safe from the laws the Japanese imposed on the rest of the city, but we were not immune from the thriving gang scene. Gangsters who had thrown their lot in with the occupiers would have had no qualms crossing the International Settlement border and turning in enemy soldiers.

“How long will you stay?” I asked. He remained in Mother’s room all day, the curtains drawn, out of sight of the neighbors.