41
Seattle, Washington
November 18, 3:00 p.m. PDT
I motored Redemption east and north, away from our dock on Bainbridge Island.
It was cold, the wind riding hard over Puget Sound. The day had begun with rain, but in the early afternoon, the clouds cleared. Now an orange sun hovered above the western horizon as the moon rose in the east. When we reached the cove where Guy had sat in twilight’s hush and told me the truth about our past, I dropped anchor and killed the engine. I joined my sister on deck.
Cass, wrapped in a blanket and sipping a glass of pinot noir, reclined in a chair. She was still thin, but color had come back to her face, and she’d sprouted inch-long peach fuzz over her shorn scalp. She’d taken to wearing a red knit hat with a merlion patch. It suited her.
When I’d asked her if shearing her hair had been an attempt to dehumanize her, she’d surprised me by laughing. “Lice,” she said. “I caught lice in that stinking home Han stashed me in.”
I poured myself a glass of wine and settled in the chair next to hers.
We’d been out on the ocean almost every day since her return. At first we’d talked about our family. Guy was nearing his last days. With death’s approach, he’d found the peace that had eluded him as a younger man. He’d learned that love did not mean weakness. That anger rarely served. He’d lived long enough to see his eldest daughter miraculously restored to his side and his younger daughter demonstrate enough mettle to lead Ocean House. Our transformations seemed to be enough to quiet his demons.
Rob had taken a six-month sabbatical. The last we’d heard from him, he was walking the Camino de Santiago. I wished him wisdom and good walking shoes.
Isabeth and I kept Ocean House going, promoting and leaning on the incredible talent of our teams in Seattle, London, and Singapore. It was early days and slow going. But after Matthew’s people had released the news about Paxton Yacht’s questionable actions, the media had picked up the story. In a world that relied on fair play and honesty, Brandon Paxton found doors slamming closed. In contrast, my revelation of our past had made Ocean House trustworthy. Our image hadn’t been why I’d told the truth at the Monaco Yacht Show, but I was glad that we were again signing up clients for what had always been our specialty: bespoke yachts for discriminating buyers.
Eventually Cass began to talk openly about what had happened the night she’d gone to Marina Bay Sands. The grief and fear she’d felt on learning that Virgil was dead and that she was going to be smuggled out of Singapore. And her paralyzing horror when she heard the Russian prostitute had died. The US and Russian embassies were now working with Singapore to identify the woman and find her family.
Cass herself hadn’t been treated badly. Her greatest fear wasn’t death but that she’d simply vanish. That Han would keep her locked away until she grew old and eventually died, the world having forgotten about her. As if, I’d answered.
“I would have escaped, you know,” she said now.
We clinked glasses. It was a conversation we’d had many times.
“Of course you would have,” I agreed, both of us knowing it wasn’t true. “Yang always survives.”
“You’re Yang now, as well,” she said. “My quiet sister has become someone else.”
“If you’re trying to talk me into getting another tattoo, don’t even.”
She laughed. Getting a tattoo was one of the first things she’d done after being discharged from the Manila Naval Hospital in the Philippines. A delicately etched merlion on her right wrist.
“Show me the postcard again,” she said.
I’d stashed it in my bag, knowing she would ask. She always asked. I passed it over, the edges soft from her repeated handling.
Cass studied the picture of Uluru, the massive sandstone formation in Australia, then flipped the card to the other side.
Dear Cassandra and Nadia,
We are well and happy. The children are excited at the news that they will soon have a baby brother or sister. They have become quite proficient at Go. Nadia, we hope you’re continuing to play. With practice, you will become formidable.
May Mazu smile on you both wherever your travels take you. Fair winds and following seas.
With great love and eternal gratitude,
Ren
The card had been delivered personally by Connor, tucked inside a rare leather-bound edition of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War . “Our friend was very happy to learn Cassandra survived,” Connor had said. “And don’t let the postcard fool you. They aren’t in Australia.”
Connor had come to Bainbridge a week ago. Cass and I met with him inside Bloedel Reserve, where we’d spent an hour walking among the trees.
Now, while Redemption gently rocked and Cass appeared to doze, my mind traveled back to our conversation in the reserve, where Connor had shared his news.
General Lin had spoken the truth about Han’s sister. With Matthew leveraging his connections, Xiao had been found in a reeducation camp and returned to her parents on the general’s orders. About her health or future fate, Connor knew nothing. In thinking about Xiao, I considered how life unspools. Like Pop, Han had attempted to build his future on the bodies of his enemy. Each man, in his own way, had ultimately failed.
As for RenAI, George had taken her with him on a hard drive. I remembered the duffel bag he had pointed to before boarding the remora. It surprised me that an AI could fit on a portable drive. But since I had no idea how the technology worked, I merely asked Connor if George planned to keep Ren to himself. And I told him how General Lin had winked when I’d asked about Ren.
Connor had lifted a brow. “I had to let the general believe he wasn’t losing Ren. But the version he possesses is one with carefully designed limitations. They’ll work around them eventually, but in the meantime, George and other researchers are working to turn Ren into a watchdog. An AI version of internal affairs. He’s unsure how successful they’ll be. The AI genie is out of the bottle.”
“Trinity,” I’d murmured, too quietly for Connor or Cass to hear. The nuclear test that had launched us into the atomic age.
After the confrontation in the South China Sea, Matthew had flown to the Philippines to be with me and to arrange to have Lukas’s body returned to his family. We’d strolled along the turquoise waters of Tambobong Beach and talked about Lukas, mourning this man who’d become a friend and then given his life to help us.
As we walked, hands clasped and white sand sugaring our damp feet, I’d reached a decision. Matthew was a good man. And he deserved someone who could love him fully. I’d told him marriage wasn’t in the cards for me.
“The door will always be open,” he’d said before he shushed me with a kiss.
I’d watched him disappear into the trees, my heart carrying both relief and a new emptiness.
Cass’s voice tugged me out of my memories. “Penny for your thoughts,” she said.
I startled, recalling Guy’s words the last time he’d been on Redemption .
“Thinking of you,” I said.
She gave me a sly look, a flash of the old Cass.
“I’ve been on the phone a lot with Connor.”
That surprised me. “You still have business to wrap up?”
“Not old business. New.” She poured more wine. “It’s crazy, Naughty, I know. But I was never so alive as when I was in Singapore. I want to go back. Manage our office there when I’m completely recovered. And ...”
“And what? Cass, you and I are on the Guóānbù’s list. I know we need to expand into Asia. But you’re crazy to want to live there.” I was thinking of how close I had come to killing a man on board Red Dragon . I still didn’t know whether I would have followed through had General Lin not intervened. Waking and sleeping, I saw Han’s shocked face as he lay dying. And Emily’s body after the Guóānbù forced her into their scheme and then murdered her.
China was a rising dragon, the dominant power in the East. It terrified me.
Cass said, “I’m leaving it open. That’s all.”
“You have a death wish,” I snapped.
“I don’t, Nadia. I want to live .”
“By courting death?”
“I want to live, and so do you. Whatever that means for you—running Ocean House, I suppose.”
“With Arno Klein.”
She nodded. Matthew’s investigator had found the descendants of Noah Klein, the lone survivor of the Kleins of Mattsee. Arno was a kindly man, and forgiving, as were his siblings and cousins. We were in ongoing discussions on how to bring the family into Ocean House.
“Whatever it is,” Cass said. “And however you want to do it, I’ll support you.”
She put down her wine and reached over to take my hand in both of hers. “You will always be my protector. My Mazu. If I have you, I can do anything.”
I interlaced my fingers with hers.
“You’ll be the death of me, Cass.”
She removed her cap, let the wind ruffle her growing hair.
“Death comes for all of us. It’s part of the deal. All we can do is be sure we live first.”
She was right. We had to live. For ourselves.
For those who’d gone before us.
And for those who would come after.