Ever since her father was arrested, Phoebe had stayed out of his office, thinking he might feel her presence in there even while behind bars, under Kuomintang watch. Then again, she didn’t have a reason to go into his office anyway. It wasn’t as if she cared about the administrative work he was doing there.
Until today.
Phoebe stepped through, waiting for the dust to settle around her. Ah Dou had stopped coming in to clean. What was the use when they didn’t know when General Hong would be released—if he would ever be released? On the slim chance that the Kuomintang decided to let him free, it wouldn’t be to this house, and it certainly wouldn’t be back to the life he had before. The countdown had started on how long Phoebe and Ah Dou could remain here undisturbed.
So she needed to make a good search now.
With her 1sts clutched around her skirts, she hurried up the thin stairs two at a time. The wide spiral curved around the office, the steps ending at eye level on the ground before smoothing out for an elevated platform. Bookcases lined the walls as soon as the platform started, curling along the spiral up and up until it reached the high glass-dome ceiling. Some of these books had been here longer than Phoebe was alive. She had never bothered asking about their contents. This was her father’s office: any normal girl would assume they were boring textbooks or accounting inventory.
It was almost a little astounding. She and Orion were both fully trained operatives by the latter years of their parents’ treason. How had they not noticed what was going on? She supposed Orion couldn’t be entirely blamed—her brother had been under chemical control from the very beginning, so even if he
had raised a question, maybe their father had simply told him to forget it. Phoebe, on the other hand… What was her excuse?
She ran a 1nger along one of the spines, a poetry collection with leaves drawn onto the edges. Though Dao Feng had sent her to perform intelligence work on her mother, this wasn’t intelligence gathering in the traditional sense. She didn’t have to locate anything, lie her way onto the 1eld, outrun pursuers chasing her away from critical 1ndings.
No, all she needed to do was turn inward and look at what had been waiting under her nose this whole time. She had spent four years working for a faction that directly opposed Orion, thinking she was so smart, and for what?
In a 1t of anger, Phoebe smacked one of the bookcases. It didn’t make her
feel any better; it only stung her palm.
Protecting your family is the most important thing, her mother had said to her that very last time she visited London, when they were walking through the park together on their usual mother-daughter outings. Don’t tie yourself in knots trying to discover what you ought to do in this world. At the end of the day, every job is the same, but you only have one family.
Those words were the very reason Phoebe had become Priest. Those words Aashed in her mind each time she trained her scope onto a target’s forehead and 1red without hesitating, spraying blood and grisly, Aeshy, pink brain matter into the air.
Phoebe Hong, grand protector.
God, she couldn’t even protect her secret identity from Silas. She was so obtuse to think she could keep this up forever.
“Xiǎojiě, where did you wander oP to?”
Phoebe leaned over the railing. There was only one rung and empty space below it, so she was careful not to slip and tumble right oP the platform.
“I’m here, Ah Dou,” she replied, raising her voice so it would carry. “Bàba’s office!”
The housekeeper’s hard slippers clacked down the second-Aoor hallway. He shuAed in, hands behind his back, craning his neck with a grimace to search for Phoebe hovering above.
“Lunch will be ready in half an hour.”
“Okay,” Phoebe chirped.
She was careful to sound relaxed. Although Ah Dou was very good at keeping his mouth shut regarding aPairs around the house, she didn’t want him to get suspicious about what she was doing in here. Phoebe, to the world, came across as nothing more than a vacuous girl. She liked it that way. It made her feel as though she had control over herself. Over how much she was giving away and putting down.
Though he had been dismissed politely, Ah Dou stayed where he was standing. He cleared his throat.
“Feiyi,” he said. “Is there something you’re looking for?”
“I am only perusing,” Phoebe replied. She scrambled to come up with an excuse. “I’ve come to the realization that I don’t know much about my parents, which is quite startling.”
Ah Dou didn’t say anything in response. The silence drew long. As Phoebe resumed scanning the spines, she almost thought the housekeeper might have left. Then, in a gentle manner, he said:
“If you miss them, xiǎojiě, you can always ask me.”
Phoebe’s hand halted on the shelf. That was true. She could ask him outright. Ah Dou had started working for the household the moment her father inherited this mansion. He had been here since before her parents got married, three years prior to Oliver’s birth. Even if Ah Dou didn’t know about the tricky parts as they were occurring—like the treason—he was still a good resource.
“It’s only that”—Phoebe whirled away from the bookcase, laying it on thick
as she splayed onto the rail—“I feel like I have an entirely false conception of the world now. My parents weren’t who they say they were. My parents are liars and…” Though she was exaggerating her excuse for Ah Dou’s sake, the hurt in her words was unfeigned, the sorrow clawing a sharp nail at her insides. “… and I don’t know how to handle that I do still miss them. I want to look back into the past—see how I didn’t catch any of the signs. I want to know how much was real.”
Her mother was the one who taught her to aim. Her father was the one who allowed her to have high ambitions. What was it all for? If Orion had been
plucked up to be used, would Lady Hong come for Phoebe next, inject her too and manipulate her for gain?
And if Lady Hong didn’t come—if she actually didn’t care at all to come… then was that even worse?
When Phoebe glanced down, Ah Dou looked terribly sad.
“I suppose there is little help I can oPer for that,” he said. “They did love you, though. Of course they did. People can be capable of terrible things and hold love in their hearts at the same time. That’s the complexity of mankind.” Ah Dou straightened his sleeves, then pointed a 1nger up. “Your father stored photo albums at the very top shelf. They’re hidden behind the medal display. Hopefully there’s something in there that proves it. Lunch in half an hour. Don’t snack before then.”
He shuAed out of the office. Phoebe’s gaze shot to the top shelf, hurrying along the spiral and grabbing her skirts again.
“Behind the medal display,” she muttered in echo, searching the very end of the platform. She needed to watch her step. The glass dome was right above her, and taking a tumble from this height would most certainly break her neck.
“Aha.”
There it was. Phoebe rose onto the tips of her toes, grabbing the medal display at its sides and easing it oP the shelf. It was heavier than expected, the rectangular frame tilting dangerously. The medals swung on their hooks. On the left side, one dropped entirely.
“Tā mā de—” Phoebe shifted in an instant, adjusting to hold the frame with one hand at the base, her other hand shooting out to catch the medal before it could slip oP the platform and smash to pieces. She breathed a sigh of relief. Set the frame down.
Exactly as Ah Dou had said, there was a whole stack of photo albums waiting behind the frame, covered in a thin layer of dust. Phoebe’s arms hurt a little as she went to grab them, twinging from her close save, but she ignored it.
“Let’s get to work.”
