The Japanese diplomat Phoebe had killed lay facedown on the ground beside her.
She didn’t know if she needed to get more distance in. Whether the Nationalists would be able to smell the gunpowder on her hands when they loomed nearer.
“We could go.”
Phoebe stiPened. The absence of her riAe made her feel exposed, as though she had stepped out into the night without a coat on.
“You will always be stiAed here,” Lady Hong continued. “You are my daughter. I know exactly how your life will draw out ahead of you.”
“Māma,” Phoebe said quietly. “Please. Enough.”
The police constables had spotted them. They were cautious about their approach. Weapons raised, eyeing the bodies littered across the garden. When they took inventory of the scene, who would they blame for this? How would they explain away these perfect wounds when it was at odds with the rest of the battle that had raged here?
“You found one thesis and understood my whole research,” her mother went on. “You took on an interest in shooting and turned yourself into an unparalleled assassin. Your potential is limitless. Why stay in the bounds of city society? Why stay somewhere that is going to be consumed by war for the next few years?”
Phoebe’s 1sts tightened. This time, when her attention wavered to the dead man again, she realized the pistol that Rosalind had dropped was still lying upon the ground. Half the barrel was hidden under a tuft of grass.
“It’s not as bad as you make it seem,” Phoebe replied quietly.
For so much of her life, she had bent over backward to get her mother’s approval, had perceived her mother’s outlook on the world—and Phoebe’s place in it—to be perfect. Whether it was age or the sheer shock of these last few months that had booted her out of this impulse, Phoebe wasn’t sure. But she knew now what her younger self did not. She had seen the blight that grew under her mother’s hand—and all for what? The pursuit of power? Because she didn’t think the bounds of this city were good enough?
“We could go,” Lady Hong said again. She was looking somewhere over Phoebe’s shoulder, which meant she was watching the inside of the manor through the glass doors. “What is stopping you?”
“Must you even ask?” Phoebe answered in a fury. “Because I don’t want that.
I don’t want your aspirations. I want love. I want safety. I want to feel as though my world won’t crumble around me at any second, which, by the way, began when you walked away from us.”
Slowly Lady Hong dragged her gaze back. Glass crunched at the manor
doors. Though the police constables had been slow-moving at the periphery of the garden, whoever was making their way toward them from the doors was keeping a constant pace.
“I left for the sake of our family,” Lady Hong said. “I made a sacri1ce so that you could be close with me later on.”
Phoebe shook her head. Her hair blew into her face, each ringlet remaining in shape despite the days it had been since she made them. Her mother was the one who had taught her how to do her hair like this. She had spent hours letting Phoebe try it herself; it wasn’t only the technique that she taught but the patience afterward to make sure that Phoebe had truly picked it up.
“Don’t you know what damage you did?”
It was a question she had wanted to ask from the day her mother left. It had festered in the darkest part of her heart, the shadowed arena that perpetually wondered if it had been a matter of choice, if—when it came down to it—what remained inside the city simply was not enough for her mother. Like her children.
Lady Hong’s eyes Aickered once again, then returned to Phoebe. “I suppose I did not consider,” she said softly, “that although you are my children, you do
not pause when you are out of my sight. That is my wrongdoing.” “Hong Feiyi.”
The new summons echoed calmly from behind. It sounded familiar, so despite her best judgment, Phoebe turned away from her mother and toward the source. A uniformed Nationalist stood without coming too close; his face scratched her memory immediately. A beat later, when his backup spilled out from the manor, a name rose to her mind.
“I would tell you to be careful,” Jiemin continued. “But, actually, I’m not sure what you’re doing here to begin with.”
Suspicion steeped through his disposition, from the tone of his voice to the stance he held, his hands behind his back. His soldiers snapped to attention when they fell in line beside him. One reported: “We’ve searched the rooms. There is nothing left save for a few 1res. Mass casualties.”
“I see.” Jiemin considered the report, then tilted his head at Phoebe. “Please step away, Miss Hong. It’s over.”
Phoebe exhaled. It was. This was the end of the line.
The moment she took a step away from her mother, however, she felt a grip on her arm, then the cold press of a muzzle upon her neck. Phoebe froze. Her eyes bugged wide, landing on Jiemin in a silent cry for help.
Jiemin’s expression changed. He had gotten lax. He hadn’t expected this, not when the Nationalists had already surrounded the premises so thoroughly that any resistance was a futile 1ght. At some point Lady Hong had bent down to reach for the pistol, and no one had noticed.
“Phoebe!”
Silas’s voice, coming from somewhere to the side. Phoebe couldn’t turn her head to 1nd him, but he sounded out of breath, newly on the scene.
“Māma, please,” Phoebe whispered in a rush. “They’re going to kill you.
They’re going to shoot in retaliation if you don’t stop.”
Her mother ignored her. “You will let us leave,” she demanded.
“You are surrounded,” Jiemin called steadily. “Where do you think you will go?”
“You may get out of the way, no?”
Phoebe risked the slightest turn of her head. There was Silas, silently signaling for soldiers to fan out, to get behind them. She trusted that he would act when it came to it; he would give the instruction to shoot the moment they could 1nd an angle on her mother.
“Ah, there he is,” Lady Hong said suddenly. She had tracked Phoebe’s gaze.
She was looking at Silas now too. “I suppose you are very proud of yourself.” “I am not,” Silas replied dully. “I did what I needed to do.”
“You did.” Lady Hong grabbed Phoebe harder. “You have Liwen back. You won’t mind if I keep my daughter.”
Silas stepped forward. It appeared to be an instinct more than something he was conscious he was doing. His mouth was 1rm. While he searched frantically for a way out of this, scanning across the garden and determining who was least likely to let a bullet Ay astray, Jiemin shook his head and waved a hand to signal all the soldiers.
“I am afraid this is not a situation where we will negotiate. If you wish to put your own daughter’s life in danger, then so be it. Take aim.”
RiAes lifted in every direction around them. Phoebe gasped; Silas lunged forward. “Don’t you dare—”
“Shepherd, step back right now—” “You have a civilian in the cross1re—”
“Māma,” Phoebe wheezed. “How do you think this will end?”
“I told you, didn’t I?” The cold metal of the pistol disappeared suddenly. In its place brushed a soft touch, so light that it might have been imagined if Phoebe didn’t recognize the gesture. Back when she taught Phoebe how to shoot with a wooden pellet gun, she used to adjust Phoebe’s head like this. Her thumb on one side, middle 1nger on the other. A subtle angle shift, appearing no diPerent on the outside but making all the diPerence in her aim. “I’m not a tyrant. I’m just your mother.” And in a lower voice, barely audible if Phoebe hadn’t been standing so near: “And now they won’t suspect you anymore.”
Lady Hong dropped the pistol in the grass, lifting her arms high above her head. Phoebe didn’t move as police and soldiers alike surrounded them, as they surged forward and took ahold of her mother. They left Phoebe alone. They left
Phoebe standing there, sparing no interest even as Lady Hong turned over her shoulder, getting one last look at her.
“Be good,” she said simply.
They put her in handcuPs. Led her around the manor, yelling about whether it was foreign or Chinese jurisdiction’s responsibility to process her. In the aftermath, no words would form on Phoebe’s tongue. No thought would take shape in her mind. There was only the desire to run after her mother. Only the acceptance that perhaps she would always exist in this space where she both loved and hated her.
“Feiyi!”
Phoebe released her terror in one shaky exhale. Her gaze snapped up, searching for Silas, the sound of his call. He was trying to push past a cluster of soldiers, and she reached for him at once.
“She did that intentionally,” Phoebe said in a rush, colliding with Silas and clutching him close. He grasped her shoulders as soon as she leaned back a fraction, examining her all over. “She threw them oP my involvement by doing that.”
“Are you hurt?” Silas demanded.
Phoebe shook her head. The crash of adrenaline struck hard. Her lip wobbled, an onslaught of tears 1lling her eyes.
“Oh, no, no, no—” Silas wrapped his arms around her again, pressing her tightly into him. “It’s all right. You’re all right.”
“I know,” Phoebe sobbed. “But no one else is. Orion got badly hurt. Oliver was already badly hurt. What the hell are we supposed to do?”
Silas let her cry. They remained where they stood even as the soldiers in the garden started to disperse, yelling to check the rest of the perimeter for suspected Communist agents on scene.
“I caught sight of Celia and Alisa leaving the scene before I got in,” Silas said quietly. “It’s 1nished here. There is nothing more we can do.”
Her mother was going to be put on trial for her crimes. The experiments were done. The chemical concoctions were gone.
Nonetheless, every time Phoebe blinked, she saw Orion, his hand clutched to his side, blood spilling onto the grass.
“It seems the invasion wave is still going,” Phoebe said, her head tilting for the skies. She couldn’t hear anything, but she could feel the smoke that drifted through the city, could smell the tainted air of war.
“This new onslaught may last awhile,” Silas replied. A thought seemed to occur to him. He glanced over his shoulder as if to check whether there were any Nationalists observing them. “Feiyi… I suppose Zhabei could still use your help.”
Phoebe choked on a single laugh. When she wiped her eyes, her tears cleared, allowing the night to come into blistering clarity. “You need to get me more bullets.”
“Done.” He kissed her temple, and the sensation overrode everything else that tried to cling to her with heaviness. “I’ll get you the world if you need it.”
