Page 7 of Shadowing You

If all went according to plan, when she got to Kowloon Station…

I’ll meet you in Hong Kong.

Would he be there? Truly?

She was afraid to let herself believe.

She leaned against the window and watched the landscape change and tried not to think about it.

She’d replayed their short phone call in her mind a dozen times. Sweetheart. He’d called her that when they were dating, and after. He’d even said it the morning of her arrest.

Your visa is going to come through soon, sweetheart. In the next couple of weeks. I can’t wait to see you.

And then she was taken, and six years had passed with no word.

Maybe Ethan had never stopped fighting for her, working through channels she couldn’t see. But if that were the case, why not visit her? Why not write a letter or send money, which she could’ve used in the prison commissary? She could’ve bought extra food and slippers without holes in the toes. That would have cost him next to nothing and changed her life.

He hadn’t bothered.

Which meant Ethan had moved on. He’d built a life without her. Maybe he’d married someone else. He was only coming now out of a sense of obligation.

Once he’d done what he felt he must, he’d cast her aside.

But at least she’d be safe. If he helped her get out of China, she wouldn’t ask anything else from him.

The train hummed on, and her eyes drifted shut.

Suddenly, she was walking toward her parents’ front door. It swung open, and her mother was there, breathless, cheeks flushed, hands pressed together like she was holding something fragile.

Go inside, she mouthed. Hurry.

Mei Lin was too tired to figure out what had gotten Mama excited. She was bone-weary after twelve hours on her feet, the smell of the hospital still clinging to her skin. She wanted to shower and crawl into bed.

Mama grabbed her arm and propelled her into the house.

Mei Lin was about to ask what the hurry was, but a sound stopped her.

A man’s voice, and the sound of it raised bumps along her arms.

Her father laughed, and the other man joined in.

It can’t be. Her pulse went wild. This isn’t happening. I’m dreaming on my feet.

She was afraid to move.

Then there was the scrape of a chair, followed by footsteps.

And Ethan stepped into view.

He was too tall for this house, too broad for this hallway, too real—and she couldn’t reconcile what she was seeing. How was he here?

His smile broke wide, then faded. He took a few steps toward her but stopped just out of reach. “Surprise.”

She couldn’t seem to make her mouth move. Her eyes worked, but her lungs were barely functional. And her heart? She might need CPR.

Her father scowled at her from behind Ethan. When she still didn’t move, he put a hand between Ethan’s shoulder blades and urged him forward.

Ethan came to her slowly, approaching as if she were a skittish animal about to bolt. He cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to meet her eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”