The entire scene was like a worn memory fading away to nothing.
For a moment, Ling worried that she wouldn’t be able to reach Henry at all. There was a muffled cry—“Murder!”—and a few seconds later, the veiled woman sprinted past, her presence so minimal it opened just the slightest wobbling space in the wall. Ling dove in quickly after her, praying it wouldn’t close as she attempted her pass. Without Henry at her side, the walk through the ghostly underground was dark and lonely and frightening. But Ling couldn’t waver now. At last, she reached the train station. It was aglow and welcoming, as if expecting her, but Ling took no comfort from it now that she knew the source of its making. Ling plinked a key on the piano.
“Henry?” she called. “Henry? It’s Ling. I’m coming for you.”
The train’s lamp blazed in the dark, announcing its arrival, and then Ling was on board, alone, traveling back to the private dream world and Wai-Mae.
When Ling arrived in the meadow, she found Wai-Mae sitting in the grass near the dogwood tree they’d made, singing happily to herself, and for just a moment, Ling’s resolve ebbed. Wai-Mae wore the jeweled headpiece of a royal concubine, like one of her beloved romantic opera heroines. Seeing Ling, she smiled. “Hello, sister! How do you like it?” she said, turning her head left and right to show off the headpiece with pride.
A day ago, Ling would’ve found it sweetly charming.
“It must’ve taken a lot of energy to make that,” Ling said coolly.
“But worth the effort,” Wai-Mae said, smiling, and Ling felt a bit sick. “I’m glad you came back. Will you take some tea with me?” Wai-Mae poured a cup and held it out to Ling.
Ling didn’t take it. “I can’t stay long. I’ve come to talk.”
Wai-Mae swept her hand through the air as if she were clearing the last tendrils of smoke from a room. “About last night?”
“Yes. And other matters.”
“That’s all forgotten, sister. I’ve forgiven you for what you did. I know you meant well. But I don’t want to talk about such unhappy things anymore. Here. Sit with me and I will tell you all about tonight’s opera, and you will play whatever role you wish—except for the role I play, naturally.”
Ling didn’t move. “Wai-Mae, where’s Henry?”
“Henry? He’s with Louis, of course.”
“Wai-Mae. You need to let him go.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He is happy with Louis in their dream.”
“No. He’s trapped inside a dream. You can’t stay here, Wai-Mae. None of us can live inside a dream. You’re… hurting people. You’re hurting Henry.”