Free Dragon Bones by Lisa See Page B

steadily.
    Zai’s plans didn’t quite work out the way he’d envisioned. After landing in Chongqing at 1:30 in the morning, Hulan and David shared a double bed at the Holiday Inn. They both kept to their sides of the bed and managed not to speak of anything of consequence either then or a couple of hours later, when they got up to go to the Chaotianmen Docks to board the ancient-looking ferry that would take them downriver to Bashan. Their room was private and mercifully equipped with bunk beds. But as they slowly floated down the Yangzi, Hulan found herself thinking about her husband, and about Zai’s plan.
    Around noon, Hulan and David went to the dining room and were lucky enough to get a window table. They’d left the city behind and were once again deep in the vastness of China’s interior. After lunch they stayed where they were, nibbling peanuts, sipping tea, and watching the world unfurl before them. They hadn’t spent this much time together in months. Hulan was nervous, but as David chatted idly about the river she found herself noticing how relaxed he seemed. He had always been a handsome man and easy to talk to. His brown hair showed just a trace of gray at the temples, and his blue eyes still looked at her lovingly. Here, away from Beijing and their sad memories, she caught glimpses of the person she’d fallen in love with.
    Later, after dinner, they spent a little time on deck. The air was still warm, and the humidity settled on their skin in a soft sheen. When David took her hand, she didn’t pull away. But when they’d gone back to their cabin, he had undressed, gotten into the top bunk, and gone to sleep. She lay awake for a long while, feeling the gentle movement of the ferry on the water, listening to David’s breathing above her, and wondering if there truly was a way to cross the gulf that had formed between them.
    But there was another thing to think about. She was afraid of this murder case. Seeing Brian McCarthy’s body had brought back memories of burning flesh, of screaming women, of lost lives. Did the events at the Knight factory have to end the way they had? Could she have done anything differently? These thoughts inevitably led her to Chaowen. Could Hulan have done something differently when Chaowen first fell ill? Wasn’t there something that could have been done? Hulan had failed as a daughter and failed as an investigator, but wasn’t it too cruel that she had failed as a mother too? These questions had tormented her for so long, and the feelings they stirred in her pushed her out of bed. As she took out her Luger, cleaned it, then repacked it, the recriminations and self-doubt seemed overwhelming. She didn’t know if she’d learned from her mistakes—any of them.
    Just before dawn they were roused by a shipwide announcement that they were about to enter the Qutang Gorge, the first of the Three Gorges. David and Hulan hurried out onto the deck and stood at the prow looking downriver. The air felt as thick as a swamp. David’s shirt stuck to his skin, and dark, wet spots began to blotch the cotton. Hulan dabbed at her forehead and the back of her neck with a handkerchief. But this was a new day, and she took David’s hand. He was cautious enough not to risk looking at her, but he squeezed her hand to acknowledge her gesture. Each of them was making tentative steps. If they were at Zai’s suggestion, so be it.
    The deck hummed with excitement. Even those for whom this trip was a daily or weekly occurrence pressed against the railings to watch as the ferry entered the gorge. Two large mountains flanked the river, forming the Kuimen Gate, its giant peaks hidden in mist. The water churned turbulent clouds of yellow silt as the ferry fought its way through the dramatic entrance. Precipices hung out high overhead. Rain and time had caused crevasses to form, and the limestone walls had been pitted into great spongy forms.
    The voice on the loudspeaker recited, “The Qutang Gorge is