Page 19

June

K ai’s grandma stared straight into my soul.

Her gaze was stern, intense, and unwavering.

There was no doubt the question was directed at me, as if having children was solely my responsibility.

In my experience, I had met single women who wanted children without any partners interfering, but even they needed help from medical professionals.

A sudden shout from far away rescued me from the awkwardness. If she stared at me any longer, I was sure my soul would be sucked out of my body. Still, her message was clear: she expected me to stick around and provide her with grandchildren.

The two thugs who had been waiting outside the grocery store stormed in. One of them tripped over the centerpiece of an antique-looking table, nearly knocking over an equally old yellow-and-green oriental-style vase.

“Mou lai mao, chow dun ba bai,” Grandma said in Cantonese, this time directing her words at Dannie. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t speak English to him now that both Wendy and I knew she was fluent.

The two men shrank under her glare, hurriedly bowing their heads in apology. Dannie gestured for the one called Tiger to come closer. Tiger leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

Grandma replied in Cantonese, her voice sharp with irritation.

I couldn’t make out what Tiger was saying, but I was impressed that Grandma could.

Even if I had heard the words clearly, I wouldn’t have understood most of them.

They were speaking too fast and exclusively in Cantonese.

Maybe it was easier for them to communicate in their native tongue—or maybe they didn’t want their foreign guests to understand the conversation.

Either way, it was obvious that whatever had happened was a problem for Dannie, and it had angered his grandma.

“I think we should get going,” I said, seizing the opportunity to escape the tense atmosphere. Wendy had been trying to tell me something earlier, and I hoped it was news about Kai. Good or bad, I needed to know.

“No, you stay,” Grandma commanded, her voice loud, cutting through the room like a blade.

“Alright,” I muttered, sinking back into my seat.

She continued speaking in rapid Cantonese.

Dannie simply sat there, letting her take the lead.

I wondered if all Asian grandmothers wielded this kind of power over their families.

My mother certainly did. Whenever she was around, she dominated the room, dictating how people should behave, think and even breathe.

Once, she told my dad’s new wife to shut her mouth and stop breathing through it.

Laura intervened, offering to show us around the house. I jumped at the chance. Wendy, however, hesitated, clearly curious to see how the confrontation would unfold. I had to step on her toes to get her moving.

“What was going on?” I asked as we climbed the stairs, finally out of sight.

“Oh, you don’t understand Cantonese?” Laura tilted her head.

“No.” I admitted.

“Neither do I,” Wendy chimed in, suddenly pushing her face uncomfortably close to Laura. “What were they saying?”

“Wendy,” I hissed, shooting her a warning glare. She could hear Laura just fine without invading her personal space.

Laura chuckled softly. “When you said you wanted to leave, I thought you understood at least some of it.”

“No. My mother knows a bit of Cantonese, but she never bothered to teach me.”

Laura pushed open a set of ornate double doors. “This is where Lord Whiteshire used to host his tea parties. Well, technically, his wife did.”

The room was grand and stately, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through large windows framed by heavy, floor-to-ceiling navy blue curtains.

The walls were adorned with a wallpaper veined with gold, in a slightly darker shade of navy blue.

In the center of the ceiling hung an opulent chandelier, its crystals sparkling like captured stars.

Three elegant couches formed a seating area: a three-seater in the middle and two smaller ones on either side.

“Are the furnishings from the Victorian era?” I asked, more to keep Laura talking than out of genuine curiosity. In my experience, people tended to reveal more when they were in the mood to chat.

“God, no,” she laughed. “These are new. The old ones were ancient, and Grandma was convinced someone died on one of them.”

“Really?” I forced out a chuckle, hoping to keep her talking.

“Yeah. I was too young to remember moving into this house, but that stuck with me. For me, it was kind of hilarious, you know?”

“How so?”

She grinned. “I always thought old people weren’t supposed to be scared of ghosts.”

“Oh, I thought it was the opposite. What I heard was that young children aren’t afraid of ghosts.”

“Yeah, that’s because they don’t know what ghosts are,” she swallowed hard, “until they realize what they are.”

“You sound like you have experience with this. Care to share?”

“Gosh, why are you guys always talking about ghosts? First haunted buildings, now haunted furniture. Can we please steer away from that topic? I’m not a big fan of this weird culture of yours.” Wendy circled her index finger at us, her head followed the direction of the twirl.

A soft knock on the double wooden doors made all our heads turn. Laura nodded to a middle-aged woman in a white polo shirt and black pants holding a tray of tea. She was accompanied by four other people—two men and two women—dressed similarly, though their polo shirts were light gray.

“Thank you, Ling Jie . ”.

Ling Jie smiled kindly at the acknowledgment, and her team quickly got to work. Within a minute, the coffee tables were filled with beautiful miniature cakes, biscuits, scones, and delicate finger sandwiches.

“Grandma must have decided to move the tea party up here,” Laura mused.

We heard raised voices coming from downstairs. The tension in the air thickened.

“What’s really going on?” I pressed, leaning in closer. “You can tell me. Dannie and I don’t have secrets.”

I knew that wasn’t entirely true. But Dannie had never lied to me, at least, not directly.

“Okay. So, when Dad died,” she blinked twice, “I mean, when Dannie’s dad died, he took over.”

“Yes, I knew that.” I reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. “I’m sure he would be proud to have you as his daughter.”

“Thanks. It’s just that…” She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Dannie… well, only Grandma ever acknowledges my existence in this family.”

“Dannie is just an emotionally unavailable asshole, isn’t he?”

Laura giggled softly. “You’re funny. I like you a lot.”

“Thank you. Now, you were saying…” My curiosity gnawed at me, and I needed to find out more.

“Yeah, you were saying…” Wendy chimed in, just as eager.

“Dannie’s uncle was busted for drug dealing and spent years in prisons. Now he’s finally out, and he wants Dannie to hand over the family businesses to him.”

“I see. What does your grandma think about it?”

“Grandma doesn’t believe a drug addict should be allowed anywhere near the family business.”

“He’s an addict?”

“He was—until he went to prison. But as soon as he got out, he was back on it again.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“He is loud. And he makes a lot of threats, you know? But people always do that with Dannie—and our family. I’m kind of used to it.”

I couldn’t help feeling sad for her. Growing up in America, my biggest fear had been school shootings—rare as they were back in my day. My parents had always thought I was being silly.

But for Laura, the threat wasn’t hypothetical or random. It was real. People targeted her family simply because of who they were.

“Will he hurt Dannie?”

I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Dannie had to protect himself from his own flesh and blood.

“No,” Laura shook her head, “maybe he’d try, but no one can get near Dannie without being tackled down first.”

“What about you and Dannie’s grandmother?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I like to think he wouldn’t hurt his own mother. But who knows? People do all sorts of crazy things when they’re high.”

“Has he ever tried to hurt you?”

“Only once.” She pulled her hands from mine, her voice quieting. “I don’t think he’ll try again. Grandma promised she won’t let it happen to me as long as she’s alive.”

“I’m sorry about what happened. You can tell me everything if you want to.”

“Maybe one day.”

When a loud crash echoed from downstairs, my patience snapped. I couldn’t sit there any longer. The elegant spread of treats wasn’t enough to hold my attention. My curiosity—and worry for Dannie—overpowered everything else.

Laura tried to distract me with idle conversation, but I barely heard her. Where I bought my clothes was none of her business, and frankly, I didn’t care where she shopped either.

“June, June!” She kept calling my name as I strode down the corridor toward the marble staircase.

All I knew was that if I couldn’t stop something bad from happening to Kai, the least I could do was prevent whatever was brewing downstairs. Whatever it was, I had to stop it.

No one seemed to notice my arrival. They were too busy arguing with each other in a language I did not understand.

As I carefully snuck past the intimidating, tattooed men, I realized that most of them were carrying weapons—machetes, baseball bats, and what looked like the metal bars police used to control riots.

A sudden wave of anxiety crashed over me. It felt like I was walking a tightrope, fifteen stories above the ground. When I spotted Dannie, he gave me a slight nod, and his eyes never left me as I tiptoed my way to him.

Laura was gone. She had stopped following me when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

I was just relieved I wouldn’t have to hear her telling me I shouldn’t be here.

Anyway, Wendy would handle her. She had a way with people—even when her words were sharp and offensive, no one ever seemed to stay mad at her for long.