hand over her shirtwaist and straightened her posture. Hold yourself like a teacher. She let her gaze wander over the girls, marveling at the wide variety of ages. She longed to know each unique face. At the end of one row, she spotted tiny Yoke Soo, bouncing in her seat. The girl waved. Elizabeth’s steps lightened. One down, how many to go?
Donaldina took Elizabeth’s arm and guided her to the front of the room, taking her place at a wooden podium.
Elizabeth folded her hands, conscious of the many sets of eyes.
“Good evening, girls.” Donaldina nodded to the gathering, as regal as a queen presiding over her subjects.
“Good evening, Lo Mo.” The children echoed, a flurry of smiles brightening the room.
Donaldina paused, waiting for them to quiet. “I’m pleased to present our new sewing teacher, Miss Elizabeth King. Miss King comes to us from Sacramento. I know you will make her feel welcome.” She waited as the girls’ murmuring quieted. “Now, let us pray for our meal, shall we?”
All around the room, heads bowed.
After the prayer, Donaldina led Elizabeth to a small table set off to one side. “Often I join the girls for dinner, but tonight I’d like to get to know you better.” She waved Kum Yong over to join them.
The graceful young woman took a seat, nodding to Elizabeth.
Donaldina poured water from a pitcher in the center of the table. “I wanted to speak to both of you about the proceedings tomorrow.”
Elizabeth eyed the steaming bowl of thin noodles topped with limp green leaves—spinach? Her last meal seemed like days ago. The food looked unusual, but smelled divine.
Kum Yong held the serving dish out to Elizabeth, directing her words at Donaldina. “We are due in court at nine o’clock.”
Taking a small portion, Elizabeth glanced at her tablemates. Court?
Donaldina spread a napkin on her lap. “How is Tien Gum? Has she calmed down?”
“I’m afraid not.” Kum Yong accepted the platter back and dished up a helping on her plate. “The idea of facing her captors makes her fearful.”
“At one time she thought nothing could be more terrifying than Fahn Quai.” Donaldina shook her head.
Elizabeth took a bite, letting the food linger on her tongue before chewing and swallowing. “What does that mean?”
Kum Yong’s nostrils flared. “The distasteful term is what some, outside this house, call Miss Cameron.”
Donaldina leaned close and spoke under her breath. “Means ‘white devil.’ I’ve earned many names among the Chinese. That’s the one they use to frighten their charges into obedience. ‘Be good or Fahn Quai will get you.’ ”
“I’d think they’d wish you to come save them.” Elizabeth dug at the slippery green vegetables with her fork.
“The stories you’re told shape how you view the world. If you heard I stole children away and ate them for breakfast, you might be frightened of me, too.”
Kum Yong smiled. “Once they arrive here, they learn the truth—no one is a better friend than Lo Mo.” She leaned close to Elizabeth. “Lo Mo is our nickname for Miss Cameron. It means ‘old mother.’ ” She glanced at Donaldina. “Meant in the kindest possible way.”
Donaldina touched a napkin to her lips. “You should come along tomorrow, Elizabeth. You can witness some of the challenges they face. We’ll return in plenty of time to prepare for class.”
“Of course, whatever you think is best.” Elizabeth nodded. “What is the case about?”
“We rescued Tien Gum from her captors four weeks ago. I obtained legal custody, thanks to our friends in the court, but her former owners accuse her of stealing. If she is found guilty, they can wrest her from my protection.”
Elizabeth’s stomach tightened. The dour-faced young woman who had reprimanded Yoke Soo? “She didn’t do it, did she?”
“Of course not. It’s an age-old trick. If they can get her away from the safety of the Mission Home, she’ll vanish into the night and we’ll lose track of her.”
“Vanish?”
Donaldina sighed. “It’s a game of cat and mouse. They’d secret her away—move her up to Oregon or Idaho. I’ve chased girls as far as Portland. Some we recover, many we do not.”
Elizabeth dropped her spoon. “How could a judge let such things happen?”
The missionary blinked twice, as if fighting tears. “I ask the same question every time, Elizabeth. Every single time.”
Chapter 6
6
Charles wrapped an elbow around the cable car’s brass rail, his free hand rubbing bleary eyes. He’d spent most of the late night hours memorizing the stack of files from his briefcase. Likely as not, he’d only be expected to observe this morning, but after years in law school, he’d learned not to cut corners. Surprise questions and unannounced examinations were the rule of the day. In order to avoid humiliation, one always overprepared.
The conveyance jerked to a stop, and Charles lost his balance for a moment. Releasing the pole, he hopped to the cobblestones, hurrying across Market Street to the courts’ temporary lodgings in the Grant Building. Just a block away from the ruined City Hall and the Hall of Records, what the office building lacked in grandeur, it made up for in functionality.
Charles swiped a hand across his forehead, glaring at the moisture collected on his fingertips. He hadn’t been this keyed up since his first day of college. Of course, Henry’s unpalatable descriptions of Spencer didn’t help.
Charles rehearsed the arguments in his mind. Would Spencer start with the scanty photographic evidence? As he approached the massive doors, one opened. A familiar young woman brushed past him without a glance.
Elizabeth King halted on the curb, her face similar in color to the sidewalk under her feet.
Charles grasped her elbow. “Miss King—are you quite well?” He tugged her back a step. “Why are you here?”
She locked her round eyes on him, her fingers dropping onto his forearm. “Mr. McKinley?”
He nodded. “You look as if you’ve spied a ghost.”
She dropped her hand, the veil of good breeding rushing back over her. “I’m quite well. Thank you for your concern.” She glanced up at the Grant Building. Her eyes narrowed. “Is your uncle here, too?”
Charles released her elbow. “No. Not today.” Why did he always feel compelled to rush to a woman’s rescue, even when he wasn’t wanted? “I’m glad to see you made it to San Francisco safely.”
“I’m here with Miss Cameron.” Her color returned. “I—I just needed a breath of air. You must have business inside. I shouldn’t keep you.”
“Yes, I’m expected in court—if you’re certain you don’t need assistance.” She doesn’t want your help. Can’t you see?
“I’m fine. You go ahead.” She turned her back, as if in dismissal.
His thoughts scattered as he stepped through the doors. Two people in a large city, and they both happen to be at the courts on the same day? He shook his head. His mother always said God moved in mysterious ways.
Charles trained his mind on the matters at hand. The files regarding the Transatlantic Insurance Company contained a massive amount of complex information and detail. Likely as not, the trial would drag on for weeks—months, even. He skirted groups of people, their muted conversations trailing him down the hallway. He’d need to familiarize himself with the opposition if he hoped to be a vital part of the process.
He stepped off the elevator at the