The Silent Girl

out the door, the room suddenly seems silent in their absence.
    “You came to ask about my daughter. Why?”
    He takes a moment to answer, wiping his hands and neatly folding his napkin. “Have you ever heard the name Charlotte Dion?”
    I nod. “She was the daughter of Dina Mallory.”
    “Are you aware of what happened to Charlotte?”
    “Detective Frost,” I say, sighing, “I was forced to live through those events, so they are embedded here, forever.” I touch my head. “I know Mrs. Mallory was married before, to a man named Patrick Dion, and they had a daughter named Charlotte. A few weeks after the shooting, Charlotte disappeared. Yes, I know about all the victims and their families, because I’m one of them.” I look down at my empty plate, glistening with grease. “I’ve never met Mr. Dion, but after his daughter vanished, I wrote him a condolence card. Idon’t know if he still cared about his ex-wife, or if he mourned her death. But I do know what it feels like to lose a child. I told him how sorry I was. I told him I understood his pain. He never wrote back.” I look up at Frost again. “So yes. I know why you’re asking about Charlotte. You’re wondering the same thing everyone else did. The same thing I’ve wondered. How is it possible for two families to be so cursed? First my Laura disappears, and then two years later, his Charlotte. Our families linked by both the Red Phoenix and the loss of our daughters. You wouldn’t be the first policeman to ask me about it.”
    “Detective Buckholz did, I assume.”
    I nod. “When Charlotte vanished, he came to see me. To ask if the two girls might have known each other. Charlotte’s father is very wealthy, so of course she received a great deal of attention. Far more attention than my Laura ever received.”
    “In his report, Buckholz wrote that both Laura and Charlotte studied classical music.”
    “My daughter played the violin.”
    “And Charlotte played the viola in her school orchestra. Is there any chance they met? At a music workshop, maybe?”
    I shake my head. “I’ve already gone over this with the police, again and again. Except for music, the girls had nothing in common. Charlotte went to a private school. And we live here, in Chinatown.” My voice trails off and I focus on the next table, where a Chinese couple sits with their young children. In the high chair is a little girl, her hair done up in tiny pigtails that stick up like spiky devil horns. The way I used to arrange Laura’s hair when she was three years old.
    The waitress brings the check to our table. I reach for it, but Frost snatches it up first.
    “Please,” he says. “Let me.”
    “The elder should always pay for dinner.”
    “That is the last word I’d use to describe you, Mrs. Fang. Besides,I ate ninety percent of this meal.” He sets cash on the table. “Let me give you a ride home.”
    “I live only a few blocks from here, in Tai Tung Village. It’s easier for me to walk.”
    “Then I’ll walk with you. Just to be on the safe side.”
    “Is this for your protection, or for mine?” I ask as I reach for my sword, which has been hanging over the chair.
    He looks at Zheng Yi and laughs. “I forgot that you’re already armed and dangerous.”
    “So there’s no need to walk me home.”
    “Please. I’d feel better if I did.”
    It is still drizzling when we step outside, and after the steamy heat of the restaurant it’s a relief to breathe in the cool air. The mist sparkles in his hair and glazes his skin, and despite the chill I feel unexpected warmth in my cheeks. He has paid for dinner and now he insists on walking me home. It’s been a long time since a man has been so solicitous toward me, and I don’t know whether to feel flattered or irritated that he considers me so vulnerable.
    We walk south on Tyler Street, toward the old enclave of Tai Tung Village, moving into a part of Chinatown that is quieter, emptier. Here there are no tourists, just tired buildings that house dusty shops on the ground floors, all barricaded at this hour behind locked gates. While in the brightly lit restaurant, I could let down my guard. Now I feel exposed, even though an armed detective is at my side. The lights fade behind us and the shadows thicken. I am aware of my own heartbeat and the sigh of air flowing in and out of my lungs. The chant of the saber flows through my mind, words that both calm me and prepare me for whatever may come.
    Green dragon