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EPILOGUE P am, my three daughters, and I mixed in with the stream of theatergoers emptying out of Boston’s Wang Center, and found ourselves on Tremont Street. The freezing cold air stung our faces. Bundled up in winter clothing, everyone seemed to be smiling cheerfully, spellbound after a wonderful matinee performance of the Nutcracker ballet. It was only days before Christmas, and a magical spirit was in the air. It was around five o’clock—dinnertime. We held hands and started walking, stiffly, over the mounds of snow and across Kneeland Street toward Chinatown. When we reached the restaurant, I opened the door and waved everyone inside. The girls followed Pam closely, like a line of ducks. A smiling young hostess led us to our table. Pam and I helped the girls out of their Sundaybest matching woolen coats, hats, and mittens. Then they scrambled into the booth. I could watch Pam and the girls forever. Red-cheeked from the cold, and wide-eyed with excitement, the girls blurted out their observations about the Nutcracker, each vying for her mother’s attention. Pam listened lovingly with an unmistakable expression of interest on her face. It all made me smile. Suddenly and inexplicably, I sensed that something was wrong. An uncomfortable feeling came over me; someone was watching me surreptitiously . When the waiter approached us for the second time, Pam sorted out our requests and gave our order. The waiter seemed unaccountably hostile. I fidgeted and looked around the room carefully. I began to feel as if I were .......................... 10590$ EPLG 03-12-04 13:05:26 PS in the sights of an enemy’s gun. I wanted to fall to the floor and drag Pam and the girls with me, but I fought to keep the emotion to myself. My stomach tightened involuntarily, and I struggled to control my breathing. Our waiter nodded brusquely and walked toward the kitchen with our order. He stopped suddenly and leaned over to whisper in the ear of an elderly Chinese man. When the waiter straightened, my eyes met the old man’s stony, unforgiving stare. I hustled Pam and our hungry and very unhappy daughters out of the booth, ignoring their startled protests. I pushed them crazily, hats awry and coats unbuttoned, out of the restaurant. Once outside, I told them to hold hands and to move as quickly as they possibly could. I dragged Pam and the girls down an alley, across Kneeland Street, and along Tremont again till we came to our parked car. I wouldn’t explain my actions, because I did not want to alarm them. I pulled out of the parking space and drove away as quickly as I could. The elderly man in the restaurant was the drug dealer, Kyung Fung. 214 .......................... 10590$ EPLG 03-12-04 13:05:26 PS ...

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