A/N Another chapter that some may find hard to read.

Chapter 30*

Nathan was just finishing his coffee when Allie appeared in the kitchen the next morning. He had left Cecilia sleeping, the events of the past few days finally catching up with her. He gave a little smile as he thought about his wife, something that Allie immediately noticed. "What are you so happy about this morning?" There was no way he was going to tell her about his outpouring of emotion last night and certainly not that he had then taken her mother to bed and made love to the women whose very being heightened his senses to an unbelievable level, despite her protestations that she was now too fat to be attractive. To him she was perfect.

With a typical teenage disposition Allie slumped in a chair, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Nathan knew that she had offered to do the early shifts on the switchboard, just stopping short of telling Florence that it would be easier for her as she wasn't old. What she hadn't thought about was getting up after a late night with her friends. "How was your evening? Did you and Emily stay at her house or did you spend time with any of the others?"

At the irritated expression on her face he wished he hadn't asked. But just as suddenly it changed back to her normal look of morning nothingness. "It was fine dad. Emily was a bit upset about something so I let her talk. Hopefully it did her good to have someone to unload on." Nathan couldn't say anything but he was certain that having Allie listen to her would have been as beneficial to Emily as his unburdening to Cecilia last night.

Looking at the clock he suddenly sprang to his feet, realising that his newly found sense of peace had made him forget his duties for the moment. "Do you know what, Allie? I think we should try to find time to have breakfast together more often. I like it when it's just us sometimes. Even better if you make some of your famous pancakes!" With a quick kiss on her forehead he strode out of the door, the sound of her laughter following him down the hallway. Life was good, he told himself, he just had to believe it.

Later in the morning a small crowd gathered outside the hospital as Nurse Maggie Parsons climbed into the car to begin the journey back to Brookfield. She had been offered a lift in the wagon that had been used to transport Helen Bouchard but quickly declined, the welfare of her joints too important to her she had proclaimed with a laugh. She was relieved that all the Chinese refugees were now doing so much better that she was no longer needed. With the rota of helpers she and Faith had drawn up there were more than enough people here to ensure they were given the best care. Her own town had fortunately not suffered any serious incidents while she was away but now she was keen to return to Brookfield and a less dramatic life.

Her husband Joe had driven over the day before, happy to catch up with Hope Valley friends but more importantly wanting to make sure his wife got home safely. The others from Brookfield who had volunteered to help when Nathan was struggling with a shortage of local men he could trust had all gone back, Chuck Stewart having taken over the role of acting law officer in the town so that Joe could come here. One of the things that had become evident, both here and in Brookfield, was the need in these growing areas for more than one Mountie. For a long time when Nathan had been here the duties were shared between him and Gabe, each acting as the other's back up, but as the Mountie position in Hope Valley fell into ignominy that no longer occurred. Nathan and Bill were both in agreement that it was time that something was done about that.

Cecilia was particularly sorry to see the young Englishwoman go. They had bonded over shared experiences and had found in each other a kinship that both knew they did not share with any of the other woman here. Nathan promised that they would visit Brookfield once all his official duties in Hope Valley had been completed. She could see in his expression that he had more he wanted to say but was unable to do so yet. Something was happening, she would just have to wait to be told. As the daughter, step-daughter, niece and now wife of a Mountie she was quite accustomed to not being privy to everything that was going on. Quite rightly, she thought, there was some information that she shouldn't know and other facts that were definitely not something she would want to hear.

The task of interrogating all the prisoners and interviewing the Chinese victims was going to be laborious and so Nathan, Gabe and Bill had divided up the management of it, believing this was the best approach to take. The two senior Mounties who had accompanied Bill on his journey back were put under his command. Neither was happy about it but, as the judge reminded them, for this investigation he and Nathan were the bosses. The translator would be working alongside him and it was agreed that at no time would any of them be left alone with a witness. Their behaviour during this would very much determine the way other matters proceeded and Nathan needed Bill's keen eyes and ears to look out for signs they were hoping would not be there.

That Bill had not been witness to the discovery of the warehouse cages was good. He would be listening to the statements with a clear mind, unburdened by the horrors that still sat clearly in the thoughts of those who were there. Nathan did however suggest that either Walter or Patrick was in attendance at all times. Having been the first to open up the second warehouse their knowledge would enable them to prompt Bill to follow up on any relevant information uncovered.

Gabe had offered to question Lucas but this was something Nathan knew he had to do himself. Besides, what Gabe already knew from their interactions in Brookfield would be invaluable when he interrogated Helen Bouchard, she may not have realised it but there was already information that she had given away that would allow him to steer the questioning in the direction they wanted.

Andrew Hargreaves was a different prospect. Bill was in favour of confronting him immediately but Nathan knew they had to tread carefully. He had made a point of ensuring he knew who they had brought in to assist and immediately he could sense a shift in the disgraced Mountie's demeanor, a return to a slight air of confidence that had started to dissipate as time had worn on. It confirmed their worst fears that someone could not be trusted. They had to figure out who that was.

Nathan was taking over Bill's office for his interrogations, the judge deciding to carry his out over at the hospital so as not to disturb anyone too much. Faith and Mathew had offered the use of their own office for this, not realising that would involve major rearrangement until it was exactly the way Bill found comfortable.

As Joe and Maggie waved their last goodbye before disappearing around the corner, Nathan turned back towards the Mountie Office. He had one more task to complete before the interrogations began. When Gabe saw the look on his face he knew that it was time. With a mischievous grin he shouted across, "Did you remember your suit of armour this morning Nathan? Or the snake charmers kit?" Nathan raised his eyebrow and answered back. "Don't look so smug, Kinslow. You're my understudy on this one!"

Both men entered the jail with trepidation, never sure what they would encounter in there. Behind the desk Harold Bishop sat quietly, his eyes darting back and forwards between the cells where some form of game was being played….silently and without movement. Nathan whispered, "How long have they been like this?" "Hours," said Harold, "It's all in the body language."

Despite placing on the duty rota for the jail every one of the Mounties who spoke French, with the exception of Antoine and Bruce who Lucas already knew, they were no further forward in learning what was happening. Neither of the prisoners had said a word to the other after the first hour of shouting. So now it was time to separate them. The temptation to move Helen Bouchard out to the warehouse cells still niggled at Nathan but he knew that was something to be kept up his sleeve. For now they hoped that divide and conquer would work, playing them against each other as neither would trust the other to stay quiet.

But first, after complaints from everyone who had to spend any time in the jail, it was decided that a bath and clean clothes would make the interrogations more pleasant for all involved. They had drawn straws and Nathan had lost, so now it was his task to escort Helen Bouchard across to the saloon where Molly and Florence had offered to be in the room with the woman for her ablutions and to provide fresh clothing. Of course he could have delegated this duty to one of his subordinates but Nathan was a man of honour. He just hoped that Lucas would cause as much, if not more, trouble for Gabe.

Walking across to the cells he stood between them, thinking to himself that it was a harridan on one side and a milksop on the other. Without wasting pleasantries Nathan reached for the keys, watching their expressions change. "Bathtime" he announced, before adding, "And then we're going to find out which of you hates the other the most." Helen Bouchard let out a poisonous laugh. "There is no need to ask that, Inspector Grant. My son has been the bane of my life since the moment he was born."

Nathan turned towards Lucas, watching for a reaction. Nothing. He simply stared back at his mother and then an almost Imperceptible turning up of the corners of his mouth told Nathan that he had his answer.

It was a difficult time for them all, waiting for confirmation of some facts from Mountie Headquarters but everything seemed to take so much longer right now as they had to be careful who they entrusted with the task of searching through the files. In the meantime, they were utilising the waiting period to put more pressure on both the Bouchards. With Lucas removed from the jail for "questioning", Helen had been left waiting and wondering. Nothing was said to her. No approach was made to begin her interrogation. She was just left to ponder the possibilities of what information her son was divulging.

Seated behind the desk in Bill's office, Nathan looked at Elizabeth's journals stacked in front of him, with Jack Thornton's notebook placed clearly visible on top. Between Gabe and himself they had worked through the five journals found in the hiding place at The Tipperary, not as onerous a task as one would immediately think as they contained a lot of nonsensical writing. But within the gibberish they realised was a record of not just her knowledge of the criminal activities in Hope Valley but also numerous references to her husband and his mother.

Although no interrogation was being carried out Gabe still spent his time at the jail, seated on one side of the desk with Harold Bishop on the other typing away at reports. He went over in his head what he needed to do, thinking to himself that they never taught anything like this cat and mouse game in Mountie training. You could always count on Nathan to come up with a strategy that was outside the box.

He thought about his previous encounters with Helen Bouchard. She was like an impervious stone wall, nothing was able to break through her defences when they questioned her in Brookfield. She was stubborn and close lipped, with no sign of weakness. It hadn't really come as a surprise to Nathan that they had no luck at extracting anything from her but that only made Gabe see it as more of a challenge, even if right now he felt like a failure. He reminded himself that they always knew that it was probably going to be a case of falling back on Plan B or even Plan C so he shouldn't feel too dejected.

Standing up from his chair he turned and smiled sweetly at the woman. "Well this has been fun. I guess it's time to let you rest but, don't worry, I'll be back for a chat later." As he stepped away from the desk he made sure that Harold Bishop had a good view of the prisoner.

From under partly closed eyes that appeared to be looking down at the paper in the typewriter's cylinder Harold watched Helen Bouchard's reaction to Gabe's words. While a half-twisted smile played at her mouth, her eyes were flickering in concentration and what he thought was perhaps concern. He wondered if her silence meant that she was contemplating the best way to gain the most benefit for herself if she was to talk or was she really so confident that nothing worried her.

The telephone ringing brought his attention back to the desk in front of him and he answered to hear the Superintendent's voice, "Harold, it's Nathan. Don't say anything in front of Helen Bouchard but please ask Gabe to step outside for a moment so that you can pass this message on to him. He will know how to use it in his interrogation of the woman when he feels the time is right."

Indicating for Gabe to follow him out onto the boardwalk he quickly relayed what Nathan had said. Gabe smiled, a pensive expression on his face as he pondered how best to use this information. "Thanks Harold, this could be just what we need to start her talking."

In the infirmary Bill was taking it very slowly after the interpreter had explained to all the patients what was going to be happening. Although he knew everything he said would be translated he still wanted to make sure he looked straight at each person as they sat in front of him, kept his voice gentle and his body relaxed. The last thing he wanted to do was scare any of them into thinking they could not trust him.

The stories that began to be told were heartbreaking. One after another they spoke of their journey from China, packed onto a ship to travel across the ocean in harsh weather and poor living conditions. Once here they were bundled into wagons under darkness and then endured a long trek from the remote coastal port where they had landed until finally arriving in Hope Valley.

It was only an overnight transit stop, they were told. An opportunity for food before they were sent in the different directions that would be their final stop. First they were taken into the hidden space at the back of The Tipperary where they were to wait until the prior group to them was sent on their way. Then as they thought they were to leave, instead of the wagons taking them away from Hope Valley they were forced into the warehouse and locked into the cages.

The women cried as they told how their protests went unheeded. It didn't matter to the man and woman who were dealing with them. They were left there, in the cold and dark, with no food or water. "Only for one night!", they had told them but after that no-one came back. Upon hearing a description of the man, Walter quickly interrupted to say that he believed him to be the "boss" at the Irish bar, making a mental note to ensure that bit of information was known when his interrogation took place. This was another link to Elizabeth, something Bill still found hard to accept.

Each person had a different story to tell, a reason unique to them for why they had embarked on such a perilous trip to get here. For most of the men it had been the prospect of work when there was none at home. However, the $500 tax and the possibility of being held for months without any guarantee that they would be allowed to enter Canada ruled out the direct route.

So it was to the traffickers they turned, most of them fellow Chinese who had set up their businesses, as much to help as to make a profit. Unfortunately sometimes these gangs were then taken over by the mobs and, as was the case with those here, if they chose the wrong ones to deal with their future became even more uncertain. These were good people, wanting nothing more than a better life and through the evil of others they had suffered terribly. They spoke of their homes in the Canton Delta, just north-west of Hong Kong. It was a different culture and Bill was learning more about them as each told their story, beginning with their hopes and dreams before every one of them broke down with emotion as they recounted the terror of what they had been through.

For the women, there was a much sadder element to their tales. A few were joining their husbands, others coming to marry men who had already made a life for themselves here. With few Chinese women in Canada it was common to bring someone over from China. He had known from his experience as a young Mountie in Vancouver that the Chinese tradition of polygamy had been brought across with the immigrants. First wives usually stayed home in the village to manage family affairs while second wives, or concubines as they were known, joined their husbands here to satisfy their sexual needs and to produce additional male heirs. To hear it confirmed by some of the women with such an acceptance of what life had dealt them disturbed him. What value was placed on them by their society? By themselves?

Once more the high taxes were the reason why illegal means were used to get here. One told how she expected to spend her life working unpaid in her husband's business, while others thought they would be employed as home sewers, seamstresses or dressmakers for tailors in Chinatown. For them it was a new life, one they knew would be hard but the choice had not been theirs to make. And so they did as they were told and hoped it would make a difference for their families.

The most difficult stories to listen to were from the girls who arrived through brokers who bought them from their parents. They were young and knew little of what was happening. It quickly became clear to all those listening that none of them was aware of the potential horrors they faced. If they were lucky they would be sold to well-off Chinese families to become domestic slaves, known as mooi-tsai, perhaps treated fairly and possibly even allowed to go to school. Some of the older ones were destined for Chinatown tea houses to work as kei-toi-nui, the name they gave to serving girls. Until their debt was paid the majority of their wages would go to the owner of the tea house and the man who sponsored them into the country. Bill knew that kei-toi-nui could make even more money on the side if they agreed to spend the night with a client. Many did that, perhaps feeling that if the choice was theirs it wasn't the same.

He shuddered to think of those whose fate was a life of prostitution. Age did not matter. Girls as young as 10 were forced into brothels around the country, most of them uneducated and easily made to comply. The drugs that they were given to make them more controllable in the beginning were soon taken willingly to block out the horror of the dark world they then inhabited. It was inevitably a short life, as disease or drugs usually meant they did not survive for long. Looking into the main ward earlier Bill could see the young girls, the hopelessness on their faces difficult to witness. In his mind he pictured Allie as she was when she first came to Hope Valley, full of joy and laughter, living the innocent life every child should have. The thought of what faced these girls instead made him want to lash out in anger. For now he was just more determined to get justice for every one of these people.

His legal mind was working hard to figure out how he could ensure that they were treated decently by the government and that reparation was made for what had happened to them. It would not be easy but there was no way he would allow any of them to be detained or sent on to the life that had been awaiting them, unless it was an adult who chose to continue with their journey.

Suddenly needing to get some fresh air he indicated to Molly that they would pause for ten minutes before she brought in the next person. He knew who it was, a young girl called Mui Lan. She was a tiny thing and Bill wondered how she had managed to survive the horrors that had defeated older and stronger people. There was a part of him that didn't want to hear any more. He could see the same emotion in Walter's eyes, the disgust and abhorrence for anyone who could do this to another human being. Equally he knew it was his duty to listen and try to take away some of the pain they all had endured.

Watching as Bill and Walter left the building, Molly could see how much her husband was affected by what he was witnessing. His reputation as a curmudgeonly man was unfounded, something that made her smile whenever she heard people describing him as the gruff Judge Avery. She knew he was really soft and caring at heart. He hadn't needed to say it in words earlier when his eyes had pleaded with her to not stay and listen. She understood, knowing that he would unburden his own pain to her later in a way that would give him as much comfort as could ever be possible considering the subject. That didn't mean she wasn't aware of what had happened. Having spent so much time with these people, nursing them at the beginning and then just being there to comfort them, she had come to understand a little of their ways and what each simple gesture or movement meant. She knew there were further horrors to come and just prayed that Bill would be able to remain composed as he heard their testimonies.

Bill stepped outside ahead of the young Mountie, leaving the interpreter and inspector behind. He didn't care that they were in there alone for a moment, his wife would be hovering to make sure that they could do nothing while at the same time listening for any snippets of information that she could pass on to him. Looking along to the Mountie office he saw Gabe rise from the wicker chair at the door, his relaxed manner belying what would undoubtedly be the tension he was feeling as he prepared to question Helen Bouchard. Bill was glad that he was not yet privy to what they had just heard, the disgust that enveloped him would be difficult to keep from his voice at the sight of the woman he knew played a big part in all of this.

Inside the jail Harold looked up as Gabe entered and nodded as he saw him mouth the words, "It's time." Helen Bouchard also looked up with a wary but confident expression. Even if Lucas had betrayed her she had people in places to make it all go away. Why it was taking so long she didn't know but for now she could put up with these men flexing their muscles at her, thinking they had power over a woman. There were things they didn't know about her and she intended to keep it that way.

Gabe reached down to take the chair from the desk as Harold quickly asked. "Would you like a coffee for this?" As much as he knew he would possibly need the liquid to keep his mouth from drying out he declined, not wanting to give away any sign of what he was thinking by the shaking of a mug in his hand. He waited for the woman to look up at him. "Yes, Constable?" she eventually ventured. "It's Sergeant, ma'am." He settled himself in the chair before continuing. "I have some questions I'd like to ask you."

The same air of smugness hung about her as he had seen in Brookfield. Taking a deep breathe he began. "Two things I'd like to know. First of all, what happened the night your husband and son were killed?" He didn't wait to see her reaction before speaking again, "Secondly, does Lucas Bouchard know he's not really your son?"

There is something about staring evil in the face, confronting someone or something so sinister, that even the most courageous of men would feel a shiver run through them. Gabe could feel all of this and so much more as he waited for Helen Bouchard to answer his questions. He couldn't help but have a small moment of satisfaction as he watched her expression flicker briefly before changing back to the hard unemotional face they knew. She's good, he thought. Not a lot given away but he believed that inside she was reeling from the questions he had asked. "Let's start with you telling me about the night your husband and son died?"

Nathan made a show of reaching for each of Elizabeth's journals in turn, flipping through the pages and stopping to make notes on the paper in front of him. There was nothing he was really focused on, simply using this as a way to unsettle Lucas Bouchard even further. He had waited a long time for this, to finally hear what drove this man to act in the way he had. When he heard more about his background there had been a brief moment of sympathy for him but that was quickly dismissed by the memory of those who had suffered at his hands.

To Nathan it was a simple matter. Every person reached a point in life where they became the master of their own destiny, no matter what had come before. Growing up as he had with a gambler for a father, a man who would have sold the family home from underneath them had his mother not been quite so astute, he knew the effect one's parents could have on your upbringing. But he also knew that it was up to each person to forge their own path in life. He thought of a quote he had read from the Greek philosopher Heraclitus. The content of your character is your choice. Day by day, what you choose, what you think and what you do is who you become.

The reason why Lucas had chosen to follow in the footsteps of his parents was a question only he could answer. Nathan just hoped that the man would now show at least some remorse for his actions, he could ask no more than that. Taking his time he stood up and moved around the desk to where Lucas was seated on the sofa. Ed Harter had placed himself on a chair by the door, keeping a watchful eye on the prisoner. Not a word had been spoken in the few hours he had been kept there, each man immersed in his own thoughts.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee before we start, Lucas". He saw the look of confusion on the other man's face before a quick nod in response. At that moment Ed stood up and quickly said, "Let me get those sir", before making his way across to the stove. Nathan then eased himself down onto a chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He knew that Lucas would be surprised by this approach, undoubtedly having expected to be treated much more harshly. I just hope it works, he thought to himself. "Let's start with you telling me about the night your father and brother died."

In the infirmary Bill and Walter had returned to the office, their spirits no brighter but with a renewed resolve to get on with their job. Once they had finished speaking to the last of the victims they would need to go through all their notes and then put together a comprehensive report of the events that led to these people being abandoned in the warehouse. They had made notes of those they felt were strong enough to be interviewed again, the next line of questioning being more specific and therefore potentially harder for them to have to speak about it. But they knew it was necessary if they were to get a true picture of what had happened and who was responsible.

Bill couldn't help but let out a small gasp as Mui Lan was led into the room by Molly, his wife keeping a reassuring hand on the young girl's shoulder. As she went to leave, the look of distress on the child's face made him call out. "Molly, would you be willing to stay in here this time?" Molly nodded, glad that Bill had recognised the need Mui Lan had for the comfort and security of a woman's presence.

Walter quickly stood and moved his chair across beside where the young girl was for Molly to be seated, taking up a position against the wall next to Bill. Keeping his face impassive he worked hard to quash the emotions he was feeling right now. He had sisters, the youngest probably the same age as Mui Lan, so guessing the horror of what they were going to hear was even more difficult for him as he thought of them. He knew that when he next went home he would be hugging them even closer than he usually did and not complaining at the silly things they did to annoy him.

Looking across his desk Bill spoke softly, indicating to the interpreter that he wanted him to adopt the same tone. "Hello Mui Lan, my name is Bill Avery and the lady beside you is my wife, Molly. You are safe now, we will make sure that nothing bad happens to you." She nodded, keeping her head down, one hand clasped firmly in Molly's while the other clutched a folded piece of paper. Bill continued. "Do you think you can tell me as much as you remember about your journey here? Take your time and if you need to stop that is fine. We are just here to listen."

It took a while for her to speak, a slight tremble of her bottom lip showing the fear she was feeling, but finally she looked up at him. What she recounted was a harrowing tale of love, loss and courage. She was the eldest daughter in her family, with an older brother and three younger sisters. Her father worked in the fields and despite toiling hard they were so poor there was barely enough food for them to survive. When her youngest sister became ill her parents had borrowed money that they then couldn't repay, until one day another man in their village had appeared at the door with a proposition for them. She remembered her mother's tears, her father shouting as he told the man to leave and the hopelessness in their eyes as they looked at her.

Each day the man returned and each time her father sent him away. Then one day she could tell that something had changed. Sitting her down her father explained that she was going to have to go away. That they loved her very much but they had no choice. If she didn't go her brother and sisters would starve. She remembered the numbness she felt but knew she had to do whatever it took to save her family.

Everyone in the room remained silent, unable to imagine facing such a situation as an adult, let alone as a young child. She could be no more than nine or ten, still a baby in so many ways. Molly's arm reached around her shoulders and drew her closer. It took all of Bill's strength to ask her to continue, questioning himself whether they were making it worse by having her recount her experience. He honestly didn't know the answer to that but believed it must be the right thing so that those who perpetrated these horrendous crimes would be brought to justice.

Her details of the journey were limited. She remembered the feeling of numbness as she was taken in the wagon from the village, her mother sobbing as she ran along behind it until finally she fell to the ground in the middle of the road. The wailing followed her until she could no longer see her home. Then followed boat trips across small stretches of water until they reached a place the man called Hong Kong. For a moment there was a look of pride on her face as she told them how she had made a promise to herself that she wouldn't cry, that nothing anyone did to her could ever be worse than the pain of separation from her family and therefore tears would make no difference.

Looking at the faces around him Bill wondered who needed help the most right now. Those who were hearing her story or this young girl who exhibited a courage that went far beyond anything he had ever seen. What she told them of the journey across to Canada was the same as they had heard from all the others. The inhumane conditions, shortages of food and water, sickness amongst the people crammed into the small cargo hold. A smile that touched her mouth disappeared just as quickly before finally a single tear ran down her cheek. "There was a family who was kind to me", she said. "They had a baby and I helped look after her. It was good to have someone to be with and made me miss my little sisters less."

Molly immediately knew who she was taking about. Thinking back she could not remember a man being with the young mother and baby. She quietly asked the interpreter to see if Mui Lan knew where the husband was. "He disappeared when we were taken off the boat. Jook Liang said he was worried that the people were going to do us harm and so he was going to travel separately and make sure everything was good. He promised to be waiting for them."

Her hand clasped tighter on the paper until Bill asked if she would show him what it was. Unfolding it after she handed it across he saw it was a photograph of a man and woman. "Are these your parents?" She shook her head. "No, it is Jook Liang and her husband." Walter stepped forward to view the photograph over Bill's shoulder, then quietly whispered to him, "I think that is the man who was killed at the station."

Seeing the sadness in their eyes Mui Lan spoke again. "We were put together in the cage when we arrived here. I hugged them to keep them warm but I am so little that there was nothing I could do. My friend became so tired that all she wanted to do was sleep. I held the baby and tried to catch some of the water that dripped down the walls, dipping the sleeve of my shirt into it for her to suckle from. I remember my mother doing that when she had nothing to feed my sister. I didn't know what else to do."

The heartbreak of this child's story was almost unbearable and yet Bill knew he had to let her continue. She deserved to be heard. If he had his way the whole of Canada would be made to listen. "Did anyone tell you where you were being taken once you arrived here?" This was one of the most important questions they asked in each interview. It was this information that would help them build up a picture of the chain of people involved and find the connection to those most responsible. For a moment she looked confused, as though she expected them to already know that. "We overheard them saying that we would be coming here first. After that I don't know where but I know I am to go to a man called Woon Gwei Chang. I kept repeating it so that I would remember. I don't want him to think I am a bad girl."