nineteen
We drove back to the house. The road up to Viejo Pass was unlit. In the dark, the winding corners up to the top of the hill
seemed way more treacherous.
Alan pulled the car up to the gravel driveway and killed the engine. The lights were off inside, although it was a bit early
We sat in the car quietly for what felt like an endless amount of time, nobody making a move to open the door. The air was
inexplicably charged. Whatever was between us felt big and important, although I did not have a name for it. Neither of us
were able to say anything. I shifted in my seat and peered up through the windshield. Tonight, the moon was a single bright
eyelash.
“Well, that ended up being a long day,” he said, breaking the silence. “Sorry I kept you out for so long. But you know, time
flies—”
“When you’re having fun.”
“Did you enjoy today?” His voice was just a half step too eager, as always.
“I did. Thank you for the welcome tour. Even if you did distract me away from all the things I am supposed to be doing.”
He looked at me, and we smiled at each other. His eyes were luminous, reflected in the silver glow. I wished fiercely, then,
that things could’ve been easy. That we had no baggage and none of the hurts that had accumulated in the time since we’d previously
known each other.
Maybe, just this once, I could go for it and sort out the rest later.
“Hey, Stella?” he said abruptly, as I was thinking about it and wishing.
“Mm?”
“There’s something I—”
The light inside flicked on, startling us. The glow washed over the interior of the car, robbing us of the intimacy that darkness
afforded.
“It’s late,” I said. “We should go inside.”
“You’re right. Got to drive tomorrow morning,” he said softly.
I nodded. We got out of the car, and I followed behind him on the path to go inside. The front door was unlocked. We stepped
in. Auntie Yang was on the far side of the room in the kitchen.
I patted my pockets suddenly, realizing that my phone was missing. “Oh,” I said. “I left something in the car. I’ll be right
back.”
Alan knelt down to untie his shoes, while I stepped back outside. The door clicked closed behind me.
I retraced my steps up the path. Just before turning the corner, the sound of rustling gravel rang out. A car door opened.
I was about to walk onto the driveway, when I heard girlish giggling. Some innate self-preservation instinct stopped me from
going ahead, although my curiosity peaked.
My view was obscured, because Alan’s car was in between, but I could see the shape of a silver sedan on the other side, pulled
several feet closer to the house.
I couldn’t see everything. But I saw enough.
The car door closing on the passenger’s side.
Uncle Ma rounding the front of the car and knocking sharply on the driver’s side window.
A woman—Juliet—rolling it down, her mouth in an open smile, just before his head lowered to hers.
It felt like I was watching a slow-motion movie, like this could not have been happening in front of me in real life. My feet
rooted to the ground. If I had the wherewithal to think faster, I would’ve retreated into the house as quickly and silently
as possible, so I could pretend like none of this had happened. I could’ve at least given myself the option.
But I didn’t think fast enough. Moments later, Uncle Ma was heading toward the front door.
Right in my direction.
He turned the corner, and his eyes met mine. He froze.
“Stella,” he said, his voice too quiet. “What are you doing here?”
“I left my phone in the car. I was getting it. I was just on my way out. I saw your car.” I was babbling, babbling. I hadn’t prepared myself for a good answer. He had put me on the spot, and I wasn’t good at keeping my cool. He could see through me in an instant. His face paled.
“You didn’t see anything,” he insisted. “I was at the lab late. Juliet dropped me off because we work together. She does it
all the time. It’s not a big deal.”
I was silent. I wasn’t sure what to say in response.
“You don’t know what you saw.” He was louder. “You’re just a kid.” He stalked toward me, and I stepped backward. He stopped
immediately. He put up his hands. “Whoa. Don’t freak out.” He swallowed. I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin
neck.
I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to go inside and lock myself in the guest room.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad. I just want to set the record straight so you don’t draw the
wrong conclusions.”
“I’m not drawing any conclusions.” It was technically true. It’s not like anything I saw was implied and required any conclusion
drawing.
“Okay, good. Because I don’t want you to assume anything. You don’t really understand anything about my life with Molly. You
don’t know anything about our marriage. It’s complicated. And we have a child, who doesn’t deserve to get hurt. So we all
have to be very careful about that.”
He said we , but he meant in the royal sense. He was telling me that I had to be careful about that. That I needed to protect James.
I said nothing.
Uncle Ma seemed encouraged by that. “It’s okay to be confused. Adulthood is confusing. I think the best thing to do is for
us just to go inside and go to bed. I’m here for you if you want to talk about it tomorrow.”
In the shadowed light, his skin gleamed with a strained desperation. He was my parents’ age, but it felt hard to believe that
he was their peer. My parents had never seemed so flighty.
“Things said—they’re hard to take back. Let’s just keep it between us,” he said. “Don’t make anybody worry.”
Don’t tell anybody. Don’t make anybody worry.
The words struck me wrongly. I had heard them before, from Sam, months before he died. I didn’t think I’d hear them again
like this.
The secret settled on me like an ugly coat I couldn’t take off. He put his hand on my shoulders and steered me toward the
door. Now, I didn’t want to go inside. Now, I wanted to run into the darkness.
But it was too late. The light burst onto us as we opened the door. Auntie Yang and Alan turned toward us, their faces animated
from chatting.
“Oh, you’re home,” Auntie Yang said to her husband.
“Yes,” he replied. “I caught Stella outside. It’s late, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t look at him. Everything was too bright, too disorienting. Uncle Ma had ditched me at the door, thankfully, and swept over to his wife. His voice was undisturbed, and he cracked some joke that left the two of them laughing over the counter.
I wished I could burn a hole into the ground and disappear into it. The same litany of protections I’d gotten used to telling
myself came flooding back. I didn’t have to say anything, of course. I knew all the reasons why I shouldn’t.
This was different from before, wasn’t it? No life or death this time, no mistakes that would haunt me forever. Only a domestic
matter, one that didn’t have to involve me.
But I couldn’t get those words out of my head. The plea. The secret I didn’t ask to keep. I felt like I was going to be sick.
All I could think about was what had happened the last time I kept something to myself. You had to be ready for the consequences
of doing nothing too.
I wondered what Alan would do. Then, I realized it didn’t matter. I was alone. I could say nothing, and he’d never know better.
He had turned toward me, and his expression sharpened, alert and concerned. He could sense that something was wrong.
“Stella? You okay over there?” Auntie Yang asked.
“She’s fine,” Uncle Ma said. “She told me she was feeling tired, so she probably doesn’t want to stay up with us.” He was
dismissing me. He was going to stay out here, so I wouldn’t be alone with anybody.
But Auntie Yang was still waiting for me to answer.
She hadn’t looked away. She seemed to stare straight into my soul.
We didn’t know each other very well. I didn’t have to feel like I owed her anything.
Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.
She was the first adult who seemed as lonely as I was.
When we talked to each other, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of tenuous connection with a version of my mother that I had never been able to access.
You don’t have to keep lying for everyone, I thought.
I looked across the room. And I told her the truth of what I had seen.
Later, Alan and I sat alone in our rooms as shouted whispers seeped under our doors from another part of the house. We were
sent off by our hosts to give some privacy. We didn’t talk to each other before we went our separate ways. Somewhere outside,
three people’s lives were shifting into a new tectonic formation.
I wondered what my mother would say when she found out what I had done.
There was no way to sleep, even if I didn’t have insomnia. How could anyone sleep under this roof with all that was going
on? I was afraid to make any noise, as it seemed disrespectful to disrupt from the core devastation that was happening. I
didn’t even change or go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I had pulled the pin, dropped the grenade, and now, I wanted to
make myself small. I sat, fully dressed, on my bed, waiting—waiting for what?
But eventually, my wait did come to an end. It only took about thirty minutes, a shorter time than I would’ve imagined.
Auntie Yang knocked gently on my door and then let herself in.
“I’m sorry about all this,” she said.
“It’s my fault.”
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “None of this is your fault. It can’t be your fault for saying things that happened.”
I wanted to ask if it was over, but it was not my place. Maybe she wasn’t even sure yet. Maybe she’d see James in the morning
and feel differently.
She seemed pained, the conflict radiating from her face. And then she sighed. “I want you to know what I’m about to tell you
is also not your fault. This is all wrong. But I have to ask you to leave.”
I stared at her. I did not expect this. “Leave? Like, leave this house? Right now?”