Red Thread Sisters (9781101591857) Read Online Free Page A

lessons. From old workbooks, Wen sounded out English words and learned to link them into sentences and repeat the lines out loud with the other students.
    Eight months ago, Auntie Lan Lan had heard Wen was going to America. “Your English must be even better,” she told Wen, and started giving her extra lessons every night.
    â€œYou must learn to make real sentences,” Auntie Lan Lan had said. “It’s not enough to just repeat what the teacher says.”
    While they fed the babies, Auntie Lan Lan had quizzed her. “Name?” Auntie Lan Lan drilled. “I am Wen,” Wen would call. “Good. Season?” Auntie Lan Lan asked. “It is summer,” Wen answered, as if they were tossing a ball back and forth.
    And now all that English was trapped inside her, somewhere Wen couldn’t find.
    In the hallway, her father stretched and opened his mouth, making big yawns. When he caught Wen’s eye, he began to pretend to snore, interspersed with long whistles. Then he grinned at Wen.
    Beside him, her mother shook her head, making clucking noises, like she was laughing at him. She took the ring of cards from his pocket.
    â€œ
Shui?
Sleep?” She showed Wen a card and then rested her cheek on her hands, folded sideways like a pillow.
    Wen’s mother gestured toward the room across from Wen’s. She ruffled Emily’s hair. “Wen,
shui
with
mei mei
? Little sister?” her mother asked.
    â€œWennie,
shui
with
mei mei
,” Emily begged.
    Wen felt her mouth go dry. She couldn’t call Emily
mei mei,
because her throat would shrivel and she would choke. She was the
mei mei,
not this little girl. The only person saying
mei mei
should be Shu Ling, declaring that no matter what, Wen was her little sister and they were family.
    Emily grabbed Wen around the waist and tried to pull her across the hall.
    Wen stood firm, still thinking of Shu Ling.
    â€œNot
shui
with
mei mei
?” Wen’s mother breathed deeply, as if she were holding back a sigh.
    Freeing herself from Emily’s grasp, Wen stood apart, unsure. Would they think she was ungrateful if she didn’t sleep with Emily? With slow, shaky steps, Wen walked into her new room and sat on her own bed. She waited for her mother and Emily to yell at her.
    But neither one shouted. In the hallway, Wen saw Emily’s lip quiver. Her mother said something to her in soothing tones, and then came into Wen’s room. “
Shui zhe li?
Sleep here?” Wen’s mother tapped her bed.
    Wen nodded, then put her face in her hands.
    At the orphanage, when Wen or Shu Ling had been caught by one of the aunties for talking late at night or for not scouring the dinner pots shiny enough, they covered their faces with their hands while an auntie yelled. The other kids did it too. If you covered your face, you hid your shame at doing something very bad.
    Wen felt her mother’s fingers gently lift her hands from her face.
    â€œ
Bu yao jin
. It’s nothing to worry about,” her mother said softly.
“Bu yao jin,”
she repeated, as if she knew the words by heart. When Wen uncovered her face, her mother was smiling at her. Then she handed Wen a pair of fluffy blue gathered pants and a matching top. “PJs.”
    Wen wondered why her mother was saying single alphabet letters. She put the pants and the top down and then climbed into her bed, still wearing her denim skirt and sweater she’d worn when she’d last seen Shu Ling.
    â€œ
Wan an
, Wen,” her mother said. “Good night.”
    Wen saw her mother coming nearer, as if to kiss her. Her mother’s frizzy blonde hair came so close, Wen could see each separate curl.
    The aunties had never kissed her or any of the other kids. The last person to kiss Wen was her first mother. She had pulled Wen toward her and told Wen she was a good girl. Then she’d kissed Wen on the cheek and gone away.
    Fear, like the flames from a grease fire