"Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong." – Murphy’s law
Man Zhu Bai sits at his cluttered desk, poring over a mound of victim reports, crime scene photos, and criminal records. The dim glow of the monitor casts shifting shadows over the mess of papers strewn around him. His hand reaches blindly for the cup of instant noodles hidden behind a pile of files.
He takes a bite without looking—cold, soggy sludge. He grimaces but swallows it, too focused to care.
“It’s not your case anymore,” his captain’s voice cuts through the silence, sharp and insistent. “Go home. Read your kid a bedtime story.”
Man Zhu Bai checks the time, he still has a few minutes to spare and still make it home before bedtime. “I will,” he says flatly. “After I wrap up.”
Five hours later he finally walks in the front door of the home he shares with his parents and daughter. His stomach growls, and his eyes burn from exhaustion, but there’s one thing he has to do before he can think about food or rest.
He steps quietly into the small bedroom where his daughter, Lina, lies nestled in her own little world of dreams. As always, her leg is dangling off the bed.
With practiced care, he tucks her it back under the covers and adjusts the blankets until they’re snug around her. A single strand of hair has fallen across her peaceful face. He brushes it aside gently and bends down to kiss her forehead.
“Happy dreams,” he whispers.
***
About fifteen kilometers away, Anna stares at the dark ceiling, wide awake on the couch. The few minutes she managed to drift off when she woke up in a panic, her heart racing in fear. Even though her body cries out for sleep, her mind won’t stop thinking about everything she did, didn’t do and should have done differently.
A fierce cry cuts through the dark, coming from Hailee’s room. Guilt stabs her— it’s her fault her sister can’t sleep in peace. She walks carefully through the unfamiliar space toward the bedroom.
Anna lifts the covers and slides into the bed, careful not to disturb Hailee. Automatically, Hailee turns toward her. They lie face to face, just like when they were kids.
Anna isn’t the only one afraid of the dark. All over the city, the other victims from the container search for ways to cope with the night.
Chai Lai Luan’s mom makes shadow puppets on the wall to scare away the monsters.
Huan Rong is surrounded by her cousins in the common room, baseball bats strategically placed by every door and window.
In a canopy bed, the Princess lies awake, propped up in her mom's arms. On the other side of the door, her father tests a new alarm system.
The Fairy silently clutches a stuffed rabbit. The sound of her mother’s wails can be heard through the walls.
The Fragile Doll is alone in her bedroom, all the lights on, staring vacantly into the bright bulb above her.
The machines track the steady rhythm of Cao Niu Ju’s pulse, still unconscious in the ICU.
Anna unable to lay still, sits up and curls into a ball. She pulls her knees tightly to her chest. Her head drops down, and though the tears come fast and hard, she tries not to wake her sister. The silent sobs shake her body, each tear blurring the world around her.
***
Hangzhou, China – October 12th, – 11:00 AM
Hailee’s features blur in the mirror from the leftover steam. She wipes away the condensation and uses a tissue to fix a makeup smudge. It’s obvious Anna has been in here—her dirty pajamas are still on the floor. Hailee is annoyed and comforted by the fact that Anna hasn’t changed.
Anna comes out of the bedroom, wearing Hailee’s clothes. She pulls on the lace edging of the blouse, “Why is everything you own so girly?”
Hailee ignores Anna’s rhetorical question while she examines Anna’s face and exposed arms.
“You can barely see the bruises,” Hailee is surprised by how well Anna was able to cover them up.
Anna uses the mirror to examine her handiwork, “Online tutorial. Don’t be surprised if you get some domestic abuse pop-ups on your browser.”
Hailee knows her sister is trying to lighten the mood with her thin attempts at humor, but it is grating on her nerves. Anna shouldn’t have to pretend to be strong anymore. Plus, it makes Hailee feel weak for giving in to her own tears.
After cleaning up the bathroom, Hailee continues to tidy Anna’s belongings along the path to the apartment door. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asks, handing Anna a light jacket.
“I didn’t die this time,” Anna jokes again.
“Not funny,” Hailee says flatly.
***
The elevator doors open on Hailee’s floor interrupting Man Zhu Bai just as he’s about to knock on her door. He crosses his arms when he sees who gets off. He waits for Kang to close the distance between them.
“Anderson is the guy,” Man Zhu Bai states bluntly, he spent all night digging for information on the man, he checked all the boxes and his gut was telling him he was the guy.
“No evidence,” Kang says, but he doesn’t disagree. “Why are you clinging to my case?”
Man Zhu Bai tried to find out information on Kang, but he ran up against a big wall of red tape with the words CLASSIFIED stamped on it. Based on the implications, plus seeing him in action, he can infer Kang is qualified to handle the case. However, such an emotionless character is too detached to push the limits that this case will test. He would simply follow the steps and move on if the case went cold.
She’s my daughter’s teacher’s sister.” Man Zhu Bai utilizes the personal connection. He would reminisce as a father and an officer of the law if he failed to make sure they were protected. It’s a flimsy excuse and he can tell that Kang isn’t buying it.
“Plus, Anna Westcott doesn’t trust you,” Man Zhu Bai adds, pushing his luck. It’s a risky move, one that will either anger Kang or give Man Zhu Bai the leverage he needs to get through the door. It's also a test of what’s more important to Kang—his ego or the witness.
Man Zhu Bai watches Kang’s face stiffen.
***
When Hailee opens the door, she is startled to find Kang and Man Zhu Bai in a silent face-off on the other side. The tension in the hallway is palpable, and for a moment, she wonders if something has happened.
“Is there a problem,” she asks nervously.
Man Zhu Bai breaks eye contact with Kang and reassures her, “No, a few follow-up questions. On your way out?”
“Groceries and shopping,” she says flustered by the unexpected company at the door, “but we can go later.” She knows he is there for the case, not to socialize, but his presence gives her an urge to check the room and herself to make sure neither is a mess.
She watches him and Agent Kang look at each other in some sort of silent man-to-man communication before he replies, “Let’s get lunch. My treat.”
She is sure his smile is supposed to make her feel at ease, but instead, she can’t help but notice how handsome he is. She can feel the color rush to her face. She hopes he doesn’t notice, but he wouldn’t have become a detective if he didn’t have keen observation skills. The thought makes her cheeks heat up even more.
Anna steps up behind her, interrupting her wild thoughts. “What’s going on?” she asks, her voice edged with fear.
Hailee explains about the lunch invitation and the panic quickly leaves Anna’s eyes. In fact, she seems a bit relieved. “I’m starving. Let’s go,” Anna says, nudging her out the door.
When Hailee moves Anna pauses a beat, she must have just noticed Kang in the hallway. Hailee doesn’t miss the way Anna’s smile vanishes, replaced by a faint scowl. She mutters under her breath, “Suddenly, I lost my appetite.”
This time, Hailee is genuinely amused. For the first time all day, a smile creeps across her lips.
***
Anna steps out onto the streets of Hangzhou, getting her first real taste of the city. The area is filled with low-rise buildings, their balconies adorned with potted plants, the older structures draped in vines that wind their way along the weathered bricks. The streets pulse with life—people weaving between bicycles and delivery mopeds, blending into a noisy hum.
Street vendors shout over one another, each vying for attention. The scent of foreign foods wafts through the air. Anna’s stomach rumbles signaling the return of her appetite.
She follows along down a narrow alley. Old men sit around tables, engrossed in games of cards and chess, their laughter and chatter echo off the walls. Anna wants to be as carefree and happy as them again.
Their destination turns out to be a small family-run restaurant. Anna suspects Man Zhu Bai is a regular, he exchanges a few words with the hostess, who guides them to a table tucked away from the other diners.
Both Man Zhu Bai and Kang hold out chairs for her and Hailee. It’s a bit strange to be on the receiving end of such old-fashioned manners. The whole setup makes Anna feel like it is an awkward double date.
It makes Anna think of the glances she caught Hailee sneaking at the nice cop—Detective Man. The name suits him, his features are masculine, but softer and gentler than Kang’s sharp cheekbones and squared jaw. His eyes are also warm and friendly, not a cold penetrating stare. His hair is a bit longer and more tousled than a military cut, making him approachable.
She can see why Hailee finds him attractive. It would be good for her sister to have a distraction and it didn’t hurt to be friendly with a cop. Her sister sits down in the chair Man Zhu Bai is holding out and Anna decides to bite the bullet and make the sacrifice.
Anna bypasses the seat Kang is offering and circles around the table to sit across from her sister. She mouths “You owe me” to Hailee as Kang silently takes the seat beside her. There is only one empty spot left.
As Man Zhu Bai sits beside her, Hailee flushes with embarrassment over her sister’s mechanisms. She wants to explain that she had nothing to do with it, but it would only be digging a hole for herself. So she does what any woman does when she feels things are out of control— she pretends everything is fine.
“Please order whatever you like,” Hailee says, with a tight smile at Man Zhu Bai and Kang. “My treat for saving my sister.”
Man Zhu Bai shakes his head politely. “I already said it’s on me. You can get the next one.”
Hailee agrees and then immediately starts to second-guess herself. Does he think she was trying to weasel a second meal with him? Not that she wouldn’t enjoy it, but spending extra time with her is probably the last thing he wants to do. Her thoughts continue to spiral till the waiter comes over to take their order, mercifully saving her.
Kang waits for Man Zhu Bai and Hailee to place their orders, then casually adds a few extra sides—bitter and cold dishes that traditional medicine considers beneficial for heart health. While they engage in small talk, his attention drifts to Anna’s inept attempts to use chopsticks.
She tries every conceivable way to hold them—except the correct way. Her fingers twist and tangle around the sticks in ways Kang didn’t even know were possible. Watching her struggle is almost painful.
Clicking his chopsticks to get her attention, he demonstrates the proper grip. Anna adjusts her fingers but still doesn’t get it right.
“Like this,” he instructs, repositioning her fingers.
“I can do it,” Anna snaps, pulling her hand back.
This should be an interesting show Kang thinks as the waiter brings out the food and places it in the center of the table.
Anna remembers Hailee saying food is often served family-style here, so she isn’t too surprised the dishes are meant to be shared. She doesn’t recognize many of the dishes, though. Vegetables should be safe enough, but as for the meat, she’ll wait and see what Hailee chooses.
She tentatively reaches for something green, but the food slips right out of the chopsticks. This is going to be a long lunch, her stomach is in knots torn between hunger and nerves. All she wants is to eat and get the suspense over with.
She tightens her grip on the sticks and takes another go. She manages to get it halfway to her rice bowl before it drops again. These things are worse than a toy crane machine, she thinks.
Kang reaches over to the plate Anna has been trying to pick from and places a piece of bitter melon into her dish. Then he adds a few things from each platter in her bowl as well.
“Thank you,” Anna says automatically.
“You’re welcome,” Kang replies without needing a translation. For once, their exchange isn’t tinged with sarcasm or hostility.
Hailee’s nervousness fades as Man Zhu Bai and she discuss his daughter Lina’s progress in class. It is much easier to talk to him in the clear role of teacher to parent instead of the vague relationship dynamic of the victim's sister and police officer.
For the first time in days, she felt like she was herself again. Then a kick from under the table reminded her that things were never normal. She knows Anna wants her to get a move on.
Hailee sets down her chopsticks across the rim of her bowl, “What did you need to talk to us about?” she asks looking between both men.
“What is the extent of Anderson’s relationship with Anna?” Kang responds first with a question of his own.
Hailee blinks, caught off guard. She thought Ryan’s involvement was just a misunderstanding. “Is he a suspect?” Hailee asks, her voice tinged with growing unease.
“What did he say?” Anna chimes in, but Hailee is too focused on the conversation to translate.
Kang sees that Anna still hasn’t touched her food. He taps on her bowl, signaling her to eat. She ignores him, intent on getting her sister's attention.
Man Zhu Bai answers Hailee carefully, “He’s a person of interest.”
Kang, less diplomatic, adds with a serious tone, “He returned to the airport that night and claimed Anna’s handbag and luggage.”
The implication of their words is not lost on Hailee. Anna wasn’t hallucinating and she might still be in danger.
Anna waves to get Hailee's attention. “Hello, what’s going on?” She can feel the tension and doesn’t like being the only one who doesn’t know what is happening.
Hailee finally tells her.
Anna’s elbow knocks into her water glass. Kang rights it before it spills into his lap. A million questions run through her mind and she can’t decide which to ask first. “How? Why? Will he be arrested?”
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Hailee falls back into the role of translator again.
“There’s no evidence,” Man Zhu Bai says evenly, but with an undertone of frustration.
Kang interrupts, “I was undercover investigating an arms smuggler, but thanks to you, we now know weapons aren’t the only thing being trafficked. Your guy might be involved.”
Man Zhu Bai's eyes narrow slightly, “Did he say anything to you?”
“He’s not my guy!” Anna snaps. “He was my patient. I already told you everything: he lives in Boston, travels a lot, and mentioned something about merging his family business.”
Kang doesn’t relent, “That’s it?”
“It’s not like he’d say, ‘Thanks for saving me, by the way, I’m a mob boss,’” Anna quips. “He was friendly, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and… well, you know the rest.”
Kang leans forward. “Did you exchange numbers?”
Man Zhu Bai frowns. “If he has her passport, he can easily find out where she lives, works—everything.”
Hailee pales. “But she saved him. He has no reason to hurt her.”
“It’s only a matter of time before he pieces together what happened that night. There aren’t many redheads in Hangzhou, it’s doubtful he’ll believe it’s a coincidence.” Kang points out the grim, but obvious reality of the situation.
Hailee grips the table, her white knuckles a stark contrast to the dark wood, “But it is!” Man Zhu Bai places his hand beside Hailee's not quite touching, but still offering comfort.
Anna notices her sister’s distress and forces herself to stay cool and de-escalate the situation. “He’s probably forgotten about me already.”
Kang scoffs when Hailee translates automatically, though the remark wasn’t meant for the two men.
“What if he finds you when you go back?” Hailee is not willing to calm down.
“I'll get a new apartment,” Anna says nonchalantly.
Man Zhu Bai points out. “Good, but you should also change jobs. It’s easy to follow someone from work.”
“I’m not leaving my job,” Anna says resolutely.
“What if..” Hailee starts again, but Anna cuts her off.
“Let's not borrow trouble. I won't see him again.”
“What if you do?” Hailee insists.
Anna shrugs. She doesn’t know what she’ll do. It’s not like the police in Boston have anything to do with the situation. Even if they believed the crime happened, it is way outside their jurisdiction.
Kang makes a phone gesture, his eyes fixed on Anna. “Call me,” he says simply. Anna doesn’t need the interpretation.
“What can you do from 7,000 miles away,” she points out sarcastically.
Despite her bravado, Anna’s chopsticks tremble when she tries to eat again, betraying her pretense.
Kang flags the waiter, “Do you have a fork?”
***
Careful not to spill the soup in his hands, Ryan opens the door to Li’s bedroom. The room is bare of personality, unchanged since Li first joined the household at age eight. The few items in the room, a lamp, a clock, and a wireless phone charger are meticulously arranged.
The only hint of disorder is the sheets, pulled loose from the mattress. Ryan raises an eyebrow, amused that Li still holds the habit of keeping his legs unrestrained, even when secure in his own home. Li sits propped upright on the pillows. He really needs to learn how to relax, Ryan thinks.
“Pork rib soup,” Ryan says, presenting the bowl. “Your favorite.” He’d made sure the cook added an extra portion of rib meat to help Li heal faster.
Li winces as he reaches for the soup. The sheet slips down, revealing his torso, covered in sickly green, purple, and black bruises.
Ryan moves the sheet, inspecting the bandage over the bullet wound—no bleeding. He takes a seat at the foot of the bed. “I need to find the undercover agent and eliminate him before Wàigōng uses this incident as an excuse to delay the merger.”
Li takes a tentative sip of the soup. It is his favorite, but it’s too hot. He hands it back to Ryan silently, his expression waiting for the point of this visit. Ryan places the bowl on the far side of the nightstand.
“Why the hell were the police at Wu’s in the first place?” Ryan asks pointedly. Li opens his mouth to respond, but Ryan’s phone rings.
It must be an important client because Ryan is using his most charming persona. He covers the phone with his hand for a second to say, “Heal up quick. I need you,” to Li before leaving.
Li watches Ryan’s retreating figure and considers the situation. Wu is foolish, but not dumb enough to talk. Ryan’s delay getting to the party should have kept anyone from connecting him to the incident.
The undercover cop, however, is another matter. Li’s gut tightens; he’s going to need to be in top condition to deal with him.
Reaching for the bowl of soup, Li stretches over to grab it and feels a sharp sting. Red blood soaks through the bandage, staining his crisp white sheets. Damn.
***
Two white towels hang outside the shower where Kang stands, letting the scalding water run over him—soothing his sore muscles and the tension from the last few days. In the military, and later undercover, he got used to quick, cold showers, but tonight, the heat feels necessary.
Anna’s fiery eyes flash through his mind.
He turns off the shower and wraps one towel around his waist. With the other, he wipes down the stall and then throws it and his dirty clothes in the washing machine. The rumble of the machine breaks the dull silence of the apartment. He finds the familiar quiet for some reason tonight feels oppressive.
After drying his hair, he wraps the blow-dryer cord and tucks it neatly into the drawer. The sound of rain tapping against the window fills the room. He rubs his knee, the mess of scar tissue a painful reminder of all he’s lost.
The apartment is neat, but it feels like a model house—sterile and empty. It has been a year since he returned, but even before his assignment, it had never been a home, just a place to sleep.
He opens the drawer of the nightstand, his fingers brushing over a badge and a creased photograph. He unfolds it, in the picture his arms are linked around the shoulders of his comrades in a celebration of survival and homecoming.
He hasn’t led a team since he left the military. The thought of being responsible for the lives of the men and women in his charge is daunting.
There is only one option.
He smooths his thumb over their faces. “Forward without hesitation,” he vows, tucking the ghosts of his past behind his shield.
Kang picks up his phone. “I want to choose my team…and I have a few special requests.”
***
At the kitchen counter, Kang stares at his computer, open to the Boston Police website, while holding his phone to his ear. The repetitive hold music cuts off abruptly and a new voice speaks.
"Thank you for waiting, I am your interpreter. How may I help you?" says the voice in textbook Mandarin.
Kang makes sure to annunciate his words clearly, "This is Agent Kang, Anti-Smuggling Bureau, People's Republic of China."
The interpreter’s voice cuts in. "For international crimes, you need to call the FBI or DSS. Would you like their contact information?"
"No," Kang says firmly. "I need to speak to Lt. O'Shea."
***
Boston, MA USA – October 12th, – 8:30 AM
On a rocky beach, Lt. Michael O’Shea a rough-hewn cop with hair streaked grey from the job and age, stands over a body caught on the rocks. Despite the grim familiarity of death, the disgust and frustration still hit O’Shea like a punch in the gut.
It’s not the first or the last dead body, but the wrenching sensation never fades. He knows that if it does, it’s time to hang up his gun.
The body is still decently preserved despite its exposure to the elements. “It wasn’t an accident.” Sgt. Hunter Erickson states from his crouched position, pointing to the tether marks around her feet. The body shows signs of having been in the water, but not for long. The tide must have washed her to shore shortly after she entered the water.
“Find out the TOD and talk to the NOAA, see if we can use the current patterns to find where she came from.” O’Shea orders, as the crime scene techs zip up the body bag.
***
On his yacht in international waters, Anton Petrov shields his bloodshot eyes with sunglasses. With a heat lamp protecting him from the brisk sea air he sprawls out on deck in cargo shorts and T-shirt. His butler hands him a mimosa.
“Tell Anderson I need another special order.” He instructs, “And bring me some more antibiotic cream.” Nail marks running down his forearms show signs of inflammation.
He chuckles darkly, his fingers stroking the marks— his precious trophies. “Another feisty one!” he yells after his departing servant.
Hangzhou, China – October 12th, – 8:30 PM
Man Zhu Bai strolls into the house, tired from catching up on his other active cases.
“You’re home. Did crime take a vacation?” his father, Man Chin Ning asks barely glancing up from the television. A not-so-subtle censor of his son’s workaholic tendencies. His dad, a partially retired accountant, doesn’t understand that police work doesn’t end when your shift does.
“Xiao Bai, you’re home? I'll make you something to eat.” his mother’s voice calls out.
Ignoring his father’s half-hearted jab, Man Zhu Bai heads to the kitchen, where his mom, Bai Jie Su, is putting away dishes. Lina, his daughter, sits at the table, engrossed in a book.
His mother, the true head of the family, has been his rock ever since his ex-wife abandoned him and their infant daughter. He couldn’t have risen through the ranks of the force without her support. The household only functions because of her.
Lina, his pride and joy, glances up as he enters. He leans down to kiss her forehead. Her smile is all he needs to remind him why he works so hard, to make the world a better place for her.
His mother starts taking out dishes she has just put away. “No need, I already ate,” Man Zhu Bai says, knowing it’s futile.
“Takeout doesn’t count. You need something nutritious,” Bai Jie Su retorts, already scooping rice into a bowl.
Resigned, Man Zhu Bai doesn’t argue and takes a seat beside Lina. “What are you reading?”
Lina holds up a yellow book with a monkey on the cover, the title written in English. Thrilled to have her dad’s attention, she sets the book aside.
“Teacher Westcott gave it to me. She said it was one of her favorites.”
He spoke to Hailee about Lina and school earlier, but that was to make her feel more comfortable. It feels strange to hear her name at home.
“You like Teacher Westcott?” he asks, curious.
Lina’s head bobs enthusiastically. “She’s very pretty and very nice,” she says with conviction.
“She is,” he agrees, realizing too late how that sounds. He catches the sharp glance his mother throws his way from the stove. “Nice, I mean,” he quickly clarifies.
His mother pauses, her instincts kicking in. Her son has never shown more than a surface interest in Lina’s school. As long as grades and behavior are good, he lets it be. Her curiosity sharpens.
“How did you meet Teacher Westcott?” she asks casually, though her tone has a hard edge. “Is there a problem at school?”
“No, she had some business at the station,” Man Zhu Bai says, not wanting his daughter to get into trouble. But instead of reassurance, his words spark alarm in both his mother and Lina.
Lina frowns, concern knitting her small brows, while his mother probes, “What kind of business could she have at a Public Security Bureau?”
Sensing the conversation veering into dangerous territory, Man Zhu Bai decides to redirect. “You know I can’t talk about that. But she’s perfectly fine and will be back at school as scheduled.”
The explanation reassures Lina, who relaxes and returns to her book. His mother, however, isn’t so easily deterred. She eyes him suspiciously, already assembling a mental list of reasons an English teacher might need police assistance. Most of them aren’t good. He makes a silent apology to Hailee for his slip-up.
He’s caught off guard when Lina suddenly leans over and says, “You should ask her on a date.”
Before he can react, Bai Jie Su sets a plate in front of him with a sharp clink. “Lina, don’t be ridiculous.”
Lina looks puzzled. “Why? I thought you wanted Dad to remarry.”
Bai Jie Su sighs at the innocence of youth. Without getting into complexities, she replies, “She isn’t suitable.”
“But why? She’s single, pretty, and nice,” Lina presses, determined to make her point.
“She’s an American,” Bai Jie Su states flatly, as though that was all the explanation needed.
Man Zhu Bai senses the tension rising and tries to intervene. “Mother—”
But Lina doesn’t back down. “If they fall in love, she’ll stay,” she says simply as if that solves everything.
“That’s not the point,” Bai Jie Su snaps. “She isn’t suitable—”
Before she can elaborate, Man Chin Ning’s voice booms from the living room. “Wife! ‘Journey to the West’ is on. Come watch it with me!”
Still riled and already re-cleaning the dishes she’d put away earlier, Bai Jie Su yells back, “When the dishes wash themselves!”
Seizing the opportunity, Man Zhu Bai tells Lina, “Grab your math book. You can do your practice sheets while I work on my report.”
Grateful for the distraction, he forgives his father’s earlier jab. He and Lina escape to the study, leaving the awkward conversation—and the mess—behind.
***
Vacation plans derailed, Hailee catches up on grading papers while Anna is on another video call with their parents. From the background, she hears their mom’s voice: “Help your sister pack and let me know how many bags she’ll need to check.”
The smart and easy choice is to go home. The last thing their parents need is more worry—they’ve already spent twenty-five years in a constant state of anxiety over Anna.
Two years ago, a miracle happened: Anna received a heart transplant. After a year of rehab and recovery, the family could finally breathe. Hailee stopped waking up every morning wondering if it would be the last day she saw her twin.
This trip was supposed to be their chance to act like normal sisters. Now, everything’s blown to hell. Hailee knows Anna isn’t mentally or physically up to playing tourist, and she doesn’t blame her.
After lunch, Anna crashed hard. Hailee knows her sister isn’t sleeping at night. Every morning, she wakes up to cabinets left open, books scattered on the floor, and blankets tossed in every direction. It was the same before every surgery when they were kids. That kind of fear shouldn’t be happening now.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hailee notices Anna on the couch, waving goodbye to their parents. Anna closes the laptop and drifts over to hover behind Hailee’s shoulder, silently watching her work. Hailee knows the silence won’t last long.
Before she can finish the thought, Anna finally speaks. “Why didn’t you talk to them?”
Hailee knows she should have, but she doesn’t want to argue about going home—or lie about her intentions.
“I talked this morning. They’re just checking on you,” she replies curtly, hoping it’ll be enough.
A nudge on her shoulder tells her Anna isn’t about to let it go.
“What?” Hailee mutters, keeping her eyes on the papers.
“Are you mad at me?” Anna asks.
Hailee marks an error on a student’s paper. “No,” she answers shortly, hoping Anna will take the hint and let her work in peace.
“You’ve been grumpy since lunch,” Anna presses. She never lets things drop.
Hailee forces a smile as she looks up. “I’m fine.”
“Did the cute cop say something?”
“No. Go away, I want to get this done.”
“So, you admit it—you think he’s cute.”
“Are you twelve?” Hailee counters, trying not to let Anna get a rise out of her.
Teasing and humor are Anna’s go-to defenses when she’s worried, but Hailee isn’t in the mood. She draws a smiley face on the top of Lina’s paper, a small act of normalcy to help ground herself.
“Hey, you should go for it. A last hurrah before we head home,” Anna says. Her tone is light, but there’s desperation beneath it.
Hailee sets her pen down and looks at her sister. Anna is rubbing her shoulder, clearly in pain. Hailee told her to take a pain pill earlier, but of course, Anna didn’t listen.
Her sister isn’t going to give up, Hailee realizes with a twinge of frustration. She locks eyes with Anna and says firmly, “I’m not going.”
Anna doesn’t believe the words coming out of her sister’s mouth, but she knows that look in Hailee’s eye. People think she is the stubborn one, but when Hailee has that look, even the devil can’t budge her.
“Why?” Anna asks. She can’t understand Hailee’s refusal to leave… unless it’s more that she doesn’t want to come home.
“Let’s not talk about it now. Do you want a cold pack for your shoulder?” Hailee tries to change the subject.
There is only one reason Hailee won’t tell her the truth.
“If I want ice, I can get it myself,” Anna says defensively. She’s not a helpless invalid anymore. Hailee doesn’t need to take care of her.
Anna walks to the freezer, but there’s no ice maker, not even an ice cube tray.
“No ice. Cold packs are in the first aid kit under the sink,” Hailee directs in her ‘I’m the older sister voice’—as if five minutes is a big deal.
Anna refuses to admit defeat. She pulls out a frozen dinner box. “This works.”
She places the makeshift cold pack on her shoulder and tries to calm herself down. But as much as she doesn’t want to hear it, she needs to know the truth. “You don’t want to come home because of me, right?” she asks, her eyes locked on Hailee, waiting for her response.
To Anna’s surprise, instead of confessing, Hailee gets angry. “Not everything’s about you. My job is here.”
Anna’s guilt and sadness dissipate as her temper flares. “That’s a bullshit excuse. You wanted me to quit my job, but you can’t quit yours.”
Hailee shoots back, “I’m not the one who flirted with a human trafficker.”
Anna stiffens. “Since when is sticking your fingers down a guy's throat flirting?” She defends herself, anger building. “Plus, I wanted to set him up with you.”
Hailee’s sharp tongue cuts through the tension. “No thanks. Your taste in men sucks.”
Anna can’t argue with that. Hailee picks up her papers from the table, but Anna’s not going to let her go until she admits it.
“You don’t want to come home because of me, right?” Anna presses, her voice softer, but insistent.
With a thud, Hailee slams the papers down on the table, pens scattering across the floor. Anna is taken aback. Hailee’s anger is unlike anything she’s seen before. It’s cold, piercing—a different kind of fury.
“Sure, Anna,” Hailee spits out, sarcasm dripping from every word. “It has nothing to do with me or what I want. The whole world revolves around you.”
Hearing the words she fears the most, Anna doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm only the sting of accusation. “It's not my fault, all I want is a normal life.”
Hailee doesn’t let up. “Well, you’re not normal. You throw everyone around you’s life into chaos. Hell, you weren’t even in China for five minutes—”
Anna’s nails dig into her palms, trying to keep the emotions at bay. She knows Hailee’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that Anna didn’t ask for any of this.
“What? You want an apology?” Anna’s voice rises, sharp and defensive.
Hailee’s words hit like arrows. “For what? Getting kidnapped? Being born with a shitty-ass heart?” Each word lands heavy, sinking into Anna’s chest like a weight she’s carried for far too long.
Anna’s temper flares. “For screwing up your life!”
Hailee yells back, just as loud, her voice raw with emotion. “It’s not your fault!”
Anna’s throat tightens. “Then why are you mad?” she demands, the question raw and desperate.
Hailee’s voice breaks. “Because life sucks!” All the years of resentment, pain, and fear explode in that one cry. The frustration and helplessness she’s carried come flooding to the surface.
The room falls silent, both of them breathing heavily, the weight of the argument hanging in the air. Hailee, with a final look, storms off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her with a force that rattles the walls.
Anna is left staring at the closed door. After a minute, she takes the frozen dinner box off her shoulder. She puts it back in the freezer and retrieves the ice pack from the cabinet.
Then she straightens the papers on the table and picks the pens up from the floor. For the first time, she cleans up Hailee’s mess.
***
In the study, Ryan and Wan Chong Jin strategize over the Xiangqi board. Li sits in a corner like a well-behaved pet folding another paper crane, his movements still deliberate, but slower with pain.
Ryan spots an opening and moves his horse. “Your palace is in danger,” he remarks with a smirk.
Wan Chong Jin nods in approval at Ryan's offensive play. Without hesitation, he takes Ryan’s chariot. Ryan keeps his face neutral, though suspicion tugs at him—this feels like a trap.
“I’ve decided to postpone my retirement,” his grandfather announces.
Ryan’s hand pauses over the board, but his expression remains calm as if the news doesn’t send his plans crashing down. The reason for Wan Chong Jin’s decision might not be related to recent events, but the timing feels deliberate.
At a signal, a servant approaches with a document envelope. Ryan takes it, pulling out the contents—a dossier on Kang.
His grandfather offers no criticism, no explanation, only silence. Instead, the servant hands Wan Chong Jin his cane. Ryan rises to steady him as he stands.
Wan Chong Jin’s eyes linger on the board. “It’s late. Let’s finish this tomorrow. I’m curious to see how this game plays out.”
Ryan bows his head slightly as his grandfather leaves, the door closing softly behind him. The calm shatters the moment he’s alone.
“Call every gangbanger and two-bit crook in this city,” Ryan orders, his voice tight with suppressed fury.
Li completes the final fold of his crane with practiced precision. He doesn’t speak immediately, but his eyebrow rises in a silent question. He knows this pattern well—Ryan’s rage, controlled now, will soon demand an outlet. Someone or something will pay the price.
Ryan paces to the bar and pours himself a generous whiskey. “The bureau sent an undercover looking for guns,” he says, his tone cold and clipped. “Fine. I’ll give them guns. Enough to keep them too busy to stick their noses in my business.”
Li sets the crane delicately on the table, its fragile folds an odd juxtaposition to the brewing storm in the room. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks, his voice steady, though the weight of the implication hangs heavy. The carnage such a plan would unleash is unimaginable.
Ryan downs the whiskey, his jaw tightening. “What I want,” he growls, slamming the glass down, “is a redhead in my arms and a dead cop at my feet.”
The impact rattles the chess pieces on the board, scattering them across the polished wood. Li doesn’t flinch, but something in Ryan’s words catches his attention.
“A redhead?” Li asks, his tone carefully neutral.