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them. Doris was personally setting out dishes in front of a lone figure. He spotted me and sent the agents and Doris away with a softly spoken command.
    Johnny waylaid a confused Doris and led her back toward the kitchen, closing the doors to give my son and me some privacy.
    Mian Zi stood at the far side of a large, round banquet table, the sort that usually got crammed with people at weddings. He’d eschewed the Mao suit he’d worn in Shanghai in favor of a more Western style, like his uncle, but his hair was still long like his father’s. I’d grown used to Mei Shen’s blunt-cut bob and skinny jeans. The juxtaposition of inhumanly long hair and a western tailored suit sat oddly on Mian Zi.
    â€œWhere’s Mei Shen?” I blurted.
    â€œShe is safe.” My question had been in English, but Mian Zi answered me in Mandarin. I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a reprimand or if it was simply a product of his ethnic bias. Whatever the case, the reassurance chased away the worst of my fears. No matter their ideological differences, Mian Zi wouldn’t be taking time out for dim sum if his sister was in danger. I relaxed and sank into one of the empty chairs, sparing him my urge to hug him close. Mian Zi hated PDA even when he wasn’t upset with me.
    â€œWhat happened? Last night, I mean.”
    Mian Zi sat. Neither of us touched the food, even though he’d presumably ordered it and my stomach was rumbling. “I delivered a warning to Lady Basingstoke. Too late, as it turned out. I convinced Mei Shen to leave with me before either of us could be implicated, but she wasn’t inclined to stay beyond this morning. I do not know where she went. I presume Tsung is with her.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you deliver your warning to me?” I leaned forward, placing my hand on the edge of the table – the closest I dared come to touching him.
    Mian Zi leaned away, ostensibly to serve us both pork buns. “What happened in Shanghai is my fault. I didn’t see my uncle’s distraction for what it was. If I had allowed David Tsung to enter Lung Di’s sanctum, you would not have had to dishonor yourself.” He pushed the pork bun around his plate with his chopsticks, but he didn’t eat. I don’t think either of us was in the mood for eating. “I didn’t want to make the mistake of involving you again.”
    I strangled my napkin to keep from strangling my son. “So your solution is to leave me in the dark? Literally?” I’d been ready to follow Johnny’s advice to let Mian Zi be pissed at me, but I hadn’t expected him to blame himself. And I wasn’t ready to touch the queasiness that washed through me at the words dishonored yourself . It made me feel unclean. “If your uncle is up to some new evil plan, maybe it might be a good idea for us to, oh, I don’t know, work together to stop him? I mean, who needs a nemesis when we’ve got each other? That’s the lesson I took away from Shanghai.”
    â€œBut now you’re his champion,” Mian Zi said. “You can’t risk working against him.”
    â€œJust watch me…”
    He touched the back of my hand, much like Johnny had tapped out the agent, and drew my strangled napkin from my lap. “I can’t risk letting you,” he said.
    It didn’t quite sound like a threat, but that was because Mian Zi didn’t threaten. He played the game without investing in the pieces. I might be his mother, but I was also a piece. Mei Shen might not be willing to sacrifice me to get at Lung Di. I wondered if Mian Zi was.
    I pushed away from the table. Stood. I’d changed his nappies. I wasn’t as easily intimidated by him as the rest of the people around him. “Are you going to stop me?”
    â€œFrom involving yourself in this? No. I don’t think my uncle is behind it. It was inelegant. The sigils used were rudimentary. The