his car sideways.
In the passenger seat, ÄÃ oâs breathing was uneven. She was asleep and had started to dream.
As the car moved along, Äà o yelled in a high-pitched voice, âAnguli took your money. I havenât found it, Iâve been finding all kinds of thingsâ¦â
âBe quiet, Má ,â Trung said softly, and turned on the radio.
Classical music cushioned the vinyl night.
âDid you tell anyone?â Trung asked the rear-view mirror.
âNo,â Tuyết said.
âNot even your teacher? Or your best friend?â
âI didnât even tell Linh goodbye.â She turned her face away.
Trung caught a glimpse of his own darkened face, amidst the white and red lights of the other cars around him.
âGood girl. Go to sleep now,â he told his child.
For the rest of the journey, he and his daughter remained silent as the car sputtered along, in the flow of traffic across the western suburbs, until it emptied into the freeway, flooded with light in the dead of night.
The motel had rooms separated from one another with a wide
carport and trimmed shrubs. Trung held Tuyếtâs hand has they ran from the car to the room, then he went back to collect Äà o.
In the middle of the night, ÄÃ o awoke and did not recognise where she was. She did not understand they were in a motel. Trung helped her sit up and gave her a bowl of cold rice and sardines straight from a can. That was all Trung could manage for now. The oily coating on the fish made ÄÃ o wrinkle her face.
Tuyết
Tuyết stared into the shifting vastness. Her fingers tapped tentatively on an invisible piano, a song half-learnt.
ÄÃ o
ÄÃ oâs breathing regained its regularity as she went into a deep sleep. Inside her dream, she was in her own house, with all its objects and secret hiding places. Nothing had moved at all except the meandering path of her mind. Patchy rain fell outside her windows.
Thảoâs face was hard, but she didnât look at Äà o. Thảoâs voice was choked and stilted, and she whispered, âTheyâ¦want talk to youâ¦â
âThe Cowboy?â
âNo.â
ÄÃ o sipped on her green tea, which warmed her throat. âThe Society-Black?â
Thảo nodded quietly, still not looking up.
âI didnât know that you were connected toâ¦â Äà o looked at her friend from the migrant hostel days.
âDo you understand what you have done now?â
âWe all know what has befallen me,â ÄÃ o answered.
âYou owe us.â
âHow did they get involved?â
Thảoâs eyes lowered. âMy husband, you know what heâs like. He used to be different before. Now, wellâ¦heâd sell his own grandfatherâ¦â
âIâll get the money as soon as I can,â ÄÃ o pleaded.
âItâll take you years to get the money together,â Thảo answered.
âWhy did they takeâ¦â But before Äà o could finish, her friend let out a painful sigh.
âAll those years of working like animals, now once again with nothing in our hands.â Her friend suddenly reached out and picked something from ÄÃ oâs hair, a piece of red thread, which she released. ÄÃ oâs whole body felt like it was unusually light, weightless. The sliver of red thread floated through the air.
âLook at us, weâre even more lost now, older sister,â Thảo said.
It was as cold inside the room as out. ÄÃ o wanted to grip the side of the table. The nausea scuppered her and she could not hold in her fear any longer. âPlease, I donât understand why Sinh was involved in this, but I beg you, please let her go!â
Thảo looked at Äà o for the first time. âWho?â
âThe girl who lives out the back,â ÄÃ o said. âSinh.â
âWhat does the hụi have
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