Red Thread Sisters (9781101591857) Read Free

are destined to meet. No matter what place or circumstance, the red thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.” She paused. “This thread has brought you and your family together. At this orphanage, on this day. You and the McGuires are meant to be. Believe this, Wen. The red thread connects you.” Auntie Lan Lan clasped both her hands over Wen’s. “You’ll grow up so strong and smart in America. Remember, be a very good girl.”
    â€œI will.” Wen grasped Auntie Lan Lan’s hands.
    â€œIt’s time, Wen; they’re waiting for you,” she said.
    Wen let go of Auntie Lan Lan and walked toward her new family.
    A driver in a black uniform stood by the jeep’s doors. “Wennie!” called Emily, patting the place beside her. Wen wedged into the backseat beside Emily and her mother. Her father sat up front, next to the driver, who started up the engine.
    The jeep approached the orphanage gate. Over the gate stretched a wide arch of worn tiles. Hammered iron characters, some bleeding rust onto the tiles, announced the place: TONG DU CHILDREN’S WELFARE INSTITUTE .
    This was the gate where Wen’s mother had left her, the winter she was five. Her mother had just had a baby boy. On a very cold day, she’d swung a big sack of dry noodles onto her back and called for Wen. Wen’s mother took her hand and told her they were going for a walk. Her toes cramped in her cotton shoes, Wen’s feet began to hurt as they journeyed along winding roads. Finally, she and her mother reached a hill where a crumbling pink building stood.
    Wordless, they approached the building. Wen’s mother stopped and propped her sack of dry noodles against the gate. She motioned for Wen to sit against the noodles and pinned a scrap of paper onto her jacket. Then her mother began to cry. Wen heard her choking through her sobs, as if she were trying to explain something to her. But Wen’s mother’s words were garbled and Wen didn’t understand.
    Then Wen’s mother grew still and told Wen she was a good girl. “I love you, Wen,” she said.
    â€œI love you too, Mama,” Wen replied.
    Wen’s mother stooped to kiss Wen’s cheek. She hugged her for a long time before she let go. Then, with a final look over her shoulder, her mother went away.
    â€œMama!” Wen called, more scared than she’d ever been in her life. But her mother did not return. The sun went down and the trees around the building towered over her like dragons. The hard noodles pressed against her back. She got up to search for her mother, but the night was so dark, she couldn’t see in front of her. She sat back down by the gate.
    â€œI love you,” Wen called to the darkness.
    There was only silence.
    â€œMama!” Wen wept. “I love you.”
    But still there was only silence. No reply came.
    All night long Wen waited. In the morning, a lady in a short white coat found her and called out, “Another gate child!”
    The woman brought her inside and tried to give her hot tea but Wen scrambled back to the gate to wait for her mother. The white-coat lady scooped Wen from the ground and read the note pinned on Wen’s jacket.
    â€œNo need to wait here at the gate, Zhang Wen,” the woman said. “The drought has been too long and your family has gone. You live with us now.”
    That was a little over six years ago.
    Now, at the gate, the jeep stopped. Wen held her hands tightly in her lap. Were they going back? Had they forgotten something? Or had her parents changed their minds already?
    Abruptly, the jeep lurched forward. Wen looked back at the crumbling pink building set on the top of the hill. When the dust rose and blocked her view, Wen turned and stared straight ahead, the orphanage behind her.

three
    The jeep swerved down the rutted dirt road. Jostling in the backseat, Wen clung to the armrest. She had ridden in a car only three