Chapter 10: Out the Window

Mengyao came down the back of the building the way she climbed her trees.

She swung out of the second-floor window in socks and her mother's old coat.

She found the awning bracket with one foot and dropped onto the bin lid with a clatter that echoed through the lane.

Both of them froze.

No light came on upstairs.

"Like a log," Anqi whispered, as Mengyao landed in her arms.

"I told you."

"You're bleeding."

"That's a scrape. I'm a gardener."

Anqi did not let go.

She stood in the dark lane holding Mengyao against her, with the smell of canal water and dye in the air.

Mengyao's heart went like a small fast drum.

"Drive," Mengyao said. "Before I wake the whole street with my happiness."

Neither of them spoke on the road.

At the red lights Anqi felt Mengyao's gaze on the side of her face.

Once Mengyao leaned across the gear stick and kissed her jaw, slow and warm, until the light turned green.

On the sixth floor, Anqi's door had barely closed before Mengyao backed her against it.

"Hold still," Mengyao said.

"I'm still."

"You're trembling."

"So are you."

They kissed in the dark hall, mouths opening, hands remembering the shape of each other from the causeway.

Anqi walked her backward to the bedroom.

Mengyao took off the borrowed coat on the way and let it drop on the floor of manuscripts.

The lamp was on.

Neither of them touched it.

In the soft yellow light, Mengyao stood at the foot of the bed in her socks and her red cardigan and looked suddenly young.

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