Page 103 of Captured Immune

“We need your help,” Trey says.

“Come back October one.” The man is about to shut the door when Trey sticks his arm through the opening.

“Please, I’m begging you. She’s hurt. All she needs is a little Healing Goo.”

I’m not the one who needs the most healing; Trey is.

The gray-haired man wiggles a finger in the air. “You know duh law. No healing foh her.”

“She already knows about us.”

The Asian man scolds Trey like a father would a son for swearing when he shouldn’t have. “You should be in z-prison then. Now go away before I report you to duh Enforcers.”

“Please! She’s sliced badly.” Trey points at the bloodstained T-shirt wrapped around my arm.

The Asian man is still unfazed. “Maybe next time you don’t play with sharp tings.”

“She was kidnapped by the Royals. They’re the ones who hurt her. Please? I’ll pay whatever you want.”

“Royals?” The Asian man’s eyes go wide as he shoves, or attempts to shove, Trey from the door. “No, no, no! Go away! Do not bring dem here. I don’t want trouble.”

Trey opens his mouth, probably about to beg again, when a woman yelling from inside the store stops him. She’s yelling in Chinese, and she doesn’t sound happy. The Asian man responds in the same language in an equally yelly tone. The woman shouts back, then appears from around a shadowy corner. She looks a few years younger than the man—probably his wife.

With a hand to her chest, she gasps. Slowly, she approaches the door. The whole time, she stares at Trey with her mouth wide open. It’s not the same astonishment he usually gets from the young women who recognize him off social media. This lady’s shock feels different. Maybe she recognizes him from the news. If that’s the case, why is she not running to call the police? Instead, she’s... tearing up?Huh?

“Are you...” She takes a step closer. “Are you Trey Grant?”

Trey grips my arm. He looks like he’s about to run away and drag me with. “Who wants to know?”

“Wow. You are not a kid anymore, but it’s definitely you. You look so much like your father.” The lady turns to her husband, scolding him. “Trey Grant shows up at our door, and you want to kick him away? How ungrateful!”

The Asian man throws his arms up. “How was I supposed to know who he is? He is not wearing a name tag.”

“Please excuse my husband’s cluelessness.” With a beaming smile, the lady shoves her husband aside and waves for us to enter their shop. “Come in, come in. Let me get a better look at you.”

I glance at Trey, who looks back at me with a weary look. Still, he grips my hand tightly, and we enter the store.

While the Asian man locks the door behind us, the lady gapes up at Trey. He’s almost two heads taller than her.

“Wow. You’re so big, and tall, and very handsome. Look at your arms.” She takes the liberty of squeezing his muscular bicep. “I can’t believe it’s really you. And who’s your friend? She’s so beautiful. Very long hair and—” The lady with no boundaries is about to touch my waves when Trey extends a protective arm in front of me and pulls me behind him.

“Don’t touch her. Tell me who you are. How do you know me?”

The lady is unbothered by Trey’sready to attackstance. She slaps a hand against her forehead. “Oh, right! I apologize. I’m being rude. Of course you don’t remember. My name is Li-Fong. Most people call me Li. You used to call me Auntie Li-Li. This is my husband, Tao. Your parents were our best friends. Come, come. I’ll show you.”

Trey gives me a look like,should we follow this lady?I respond with a shrug. Curiosity must take him over, because he grabs my hand again. Then we follow the eager woman through her dimly lit store that smells of herbs, spices, and dry earth.

“Watch your step,” Li says. “We’re remodeling. There’s stuff everywhere.”

She’s not exaggerating. The shelves are covered with giant glass jars filled with dehydrated things. I can’t even begin to guess what they are. Boxes are stacked on top of each other so high, I’d need a ladder to reach the top. I can barely see any of the wood flooring through this chaos.

Li takes us down a long flight of stairs, flipping lights on along the way. The steps creak under our feet. When we reach the bottom, she flips more lights on. The basement is one big room that’s dim, cool, and has equally as much stuff everywhere.

One half of the basement is a little kitchen featuring cluttered countertops and a dining table for two. Opposite of that is a small living room with a loveseat and some end tables covered with old books.

The other side of the basement looks like a giant office, with an array of desks, chairs, and storage shelves along the walls. Every surface is littered with big books, glass jars, and tattered boxes.

On a desk in the corner is a bunch of papers with Chinese characters written on them. From the bottom drawer, Li drags out a photo album and flips some pages until she finds what she’s looking for. She removes one of the 4x6 prints from the book and hands it to Trey. He accepts it with the hand that’s not holding mine.

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