Victoria was already in her seat when I came through those oak double doors. Holding her fine bone china teacup mid-air, she slowly lifted her eyes from the pages. She measured me up and down as I walked from the coat stand to the table.

"Don't you think that dress is too loose for your small frame?" She took a sip of her Da Hong Pao. She always seemed to have an abundant supply of the world's most expensive tea, but it'd be out of line if I inquired further. 

"I thought I might as well repurpose an old dress," I said half-heartedly. "What are you reading?"

 "Anna Karenina." Her icy stare made me feel bare. "A marvelous story, isn't it?"

"I heard it's dreadfully long." I pulled the chair diagonally from her and finally sat down. "I'll get to it when I'm not bound by work."

At thirty-two, Victoria maintained a lovely, youthful, and doll-like face. A clever and pretty woman like her didn't belong here, for she despised the family and everyone in it. At this moment, her sneer was disguised beneath an insincere smile. After a pause, she tilted her head slightly and said:

"Of course."

I wanted to say something witty, but I had none in mind. I was relieved when the sound of heels clacking on the wooden floor, together with laughter, preceded any boring response I might have managed to mutter. Lizzie stepped in first. Her tailored felt hat was in her hand before being carelessly thrown onto the counter next to the coat stand. Emma stood behind her sister, arms down, and clutching the golden chain strap of her purse tightly in her hands.

"What're you so stiff for?" Lizzie clicked her tongue. "You have a seat at the table too, you know."

Emma nodded awkwardly. She was uncomfortable in this room, and I couldn't blame her. It took me a long while before I understood what the table represented. As her older sister hurried to me, she loitered behind, unwilling to make eye contact with anyone.

"You're right." Lizzie tossed the morning paper in front of me. "Sunset Park is very well received."

"Well, that plot is the best I've read in a long time." I shrugged. "It's only natural for me to say that I think it'll be a success."

"Still, I wish Laurie was in it." Lizzie folded her arms. "He was spectacular in A Gentle Goodbye. Everybody loved him. The tabloids were all over him, calling him the successor of Valentino."

"He's not going to change his mind no matter what I say." I sighed. "A Gentle Goodbye came out in 1929, and it's been five years. You can't possibly think I could've persuaded him back into acting when you couldn't."

"This business is wearing all of us down." She raised her brows. "I tell you, one day, I'll leave this behind for good and not worry about this family anymore."

"Thomas would like to see you try." I teased. "Can you imagine what he'd say?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes before pulling a chair next to me and gesturing for Emma to sit across from her. Staring into my eyes, she put her feet on the table. Although she wasn't particularly fond of my past and heritage, nor did she think I was good enough for her brother, I appreciated Lizzie. And I could say she felt the same way about me. 

"Emma, what brought you here?" Victoria asked. The harmless bickering served no interest to her, and she had returned to the pages. "I don't remember you being too fond of the table."

"I'm not. The whole business is beyond me, and I'm slow in trying to understand it." Emma chuckled shily. "But Anne asked me to be here today, and I can't say no to that."

"Surely you can, dear." Victoria narrowed her eyes. The same insincere smile reappeared. "You can't always be a sweetheart and agreeable like you are. It's worrisome."

"Keep your worries to yourself, will you?" the older Murphy sister spoke before Emma could say a word. "And if you must worry, then worry about Laurie. He was seen with Mildred Brown the other day. Not very good for the reputation if you ask me. Wouldn't you say the same?"

I could feel Lizzie's piercing stare burning into my face. My stomach shamelessly churned a little, and I sat quietly while avoiding meeting her eye. The warmness in this room made me flush. I was drowned in drowsiness and nausea. From the corner of my eye, I saw Victoria watch Lizzie frown. Sighing, she got up, marched behind Victoria, and opened the window.

"I don't think Mildred Brown is of any concern." Victoria dragged out her words and glanced at me. "Even if she is, his affairs are beyond my control. Lawrence is a lost cause for his boyish acts."

"Yet you married that boy without ever getting to know him." Lizzie said protectively and defensively without thinking. "What woman in her right mind would marry a man seven years her junior? And look where you are now. You're at fault for his unhappiness."

"He is at fault for his unhappiness, not me." Victoria was unbothered. She spoke calmly and indifferently as she brushed off Lizzie's accusation. "We all know that. Right, Anne?"

I struck a match to light up my cigarette. Victoria's sharp glare offered me no place to hide. Confusion arose on Emma's innocent face. Mouth agape, she was attempting to comprehend what she had just heard.

"You ought to cut down the smoking." Lizzie reacted quickly. "And if you must, at least use a cigarette holder like a lady."

I threw my hands while the already lit cigarette hung between my lips. 

She shook her head in dismay: "Where are the men? For god's sake, when were they on time last?"

I puffed the cigarette and sat slightly straighter: "They'll come all right. Before then, we should talk about Emma."

"What?" Emma began anxiously twirling the hem of her dress under the table. "What for?"

Victoria curled her lip and reached for her teacup. 

"I'm afraid you can't see the Chang boy anymore," I said while staring at the wall, for I couldn't bring myself to face her. "You know we can't risk mingling with them."

"He's kind to me." She protested and begged. "I know the rules, but they are good people."

"You don't know what they are." I found myself raising my voice. After a pause, I spoke quietly again. "We stay away from them, and they stay away from us."

"Anne," she sounded distraught and disheartened as her voice broke. "I know you have a lot going on, and you're saying this because you were told to. But please, I'm sure you know it's not that simple when it comes to this sort of thing."

"I understand." I squeezed the cigarette between my tensed fingers. "And I'm sorry. It has to be done, Emma, it's for the best."

"You can't be serious." Lizzie threw her hands.

"Lizzie, please…"

"What are you afraid of?" She narrowed her eyes. "Thomas told you to say this, no doubt. He married you when there's a law forbidding white men from marrying Mongols. Now he's making you tell Emma who she can or cannot be with. What a joke."

"Lizzie," I said dryly, "that's a different matter."

"Anne!" she slammed her hands on the table and said my name with frustration. Terrified, Emma lowered her eyes and stood up. Victoria was sipping her tea peacefully as if she was enjoying a show. I could tell Lizzie wanted to go on with more irreparable accusations out of impulsivity, but in the end, she took a deep breath and said softly: "Will you stop being his puppet?"

"I don't appreciate the implication behind those words." I took a drag. "The rule is not to associate with the Chang clan."

Amused, Victoria pursed her lip. 

"Since when does this family give a fuck about any rules?" Lizzie scoffed.

"We must follow the rules we created for ourselves, Lizzie," I said.

"I'm leaving." Lizzie grabbed her purse. "Emma, come, let's get out of here."

Emma nodded, and Lizzie held her hand to lead her to the door. 

"Lizzie," I called for her, "no."

"What?"

"No." I repeated sternly, not giving her any chance to speak. "Emma, go on. It's enough for you today."

For ten long seconds, Lizzie and I locked eyes. Not nine, not eleven, precisely ten. And ten seconds were more than enough for her to know where she stood. She shouldn't have followed orders and brought me into this family, for it was the most heinous crime she had unknowingly committed.

"Go on, Emma." She sat back down, deflated.

With those words, Emma left red-eyed. A small part of me was disgusted by myself, though I had learned to remain convinced that feeling remorse wasn't good for the business.

In a perpetual and dreaded silence, I smoked blank-minded. Perhaps I had given up. Perhaps the life in me had drained as time went on. Once upon a time, long ago, when I was fresh-faced, I thought I had gotten away, only to bravely and foolishly make a choice that I wasn't sure whether to regret or cherish. I thought I had found love, only to realize later that there was no love in that sort of story.

Better not to think much of it, I thought, nothing fruitful would come out of precarious reminiscences. 

The door opened. I didn't turn my head. He was right on time. Half-heartedly, he smiled at me. He stood next to his sister and on the opposite of his sister-in-law. Unlike his temperament, his face was not of the distinctive or memorable kind. He stood tall and lanky, and all his features were plain and washed out: brown hair, brown eyes, neatly arched eyebrows of the same shade of brown as his hair and eyes. With that face, he could easily sway those who knew nothing of him into believing that he was just as soft and gentle as his looks and voice.

In another moment of grave quietness, I waited for the overdue, hasty footsteps. When he got to the table, his rushed and hurried strides came to a full stop. He meekly peeked at his brother, cleared his throat, and sat across from me. The youngest Murphy sibling looked nothing like the oldest. He was of shorter stature, pale and scrawny. Though his face was chiseled, his curly black hair and big, bright blue eyes made him look rather boyish. As I smoked, I watched him struggle to tie his tie like a gentleman. His attempt, however, was short-lived, as a minute later, his new silk tie was lying crumpled on the table between him and me.

For a brief second, Laurie's eyes met mine. Reflexively, he turned away, only to quickly glance over me before looking away again.

Being displeased and slightly raising his eyebrows, Thomas waited for his brother to settle. When Laurie leaned back in his chair and threw his hands, Thomas scanned around the table. His sight lingered on each one of us for a few seconds before he finally cleared his throat and spoke:

"I requested your presence here today to make some adjustments in this family. I understand that some of you may still be mourning our father's death, but it'd be in his interest and our duty to keep the family business going."

"Our interest or your interest?" Lizzie scoffed. 

Thomas narrowed his eyes.

"All right." Laurie was annoyed. He was the first to agree in the hope of leaving this room as soon as possible. "Edmund was never a father to me. And I can assure you I won't vote against whatever adjustments you intend to make."

"Oh dear, don't talk like that." Lizzie knotted her brows. "Father cared about you."

"I was five when mother died." Laurie had his hands on the table. "And I barely saw Edmund after that. He wasn't even there when I almost died from pneumonia. He wouldn't have made you raise me if he cared about me."

"Laurie," she raised her voice. She sounded saddened, yet she didn't say another word. I knew that she knew he was right.

Thomas watched quietly in indifference. I noticed him tapping slowly on the table, waiting for the conversation to fizzle. He let the room stay silent for half a minute, making sure no one else would speak out. 

"Good," he said straight-faced, "now I'd like us to vote for who should take the end seats."

"What?" Lizzie burst out laughing. "Why? They've been empty for the longest time. And all of a sudden, it's important to fill them?"

"It's time to put some order in place." Thomas disregarded Lizzie's mockery.

"Who cares about who sits where?" Laurie mumbled. "As if anything's going to change with a new seating plan."

He thought he was quiet enough, but he had forgotten his brother was good at hearing. Thomas's head turned, and his penetrating gaze fixed on Laurie. Swallowing, Laurie lowered his head and bit his bottom lip.

"We can vote." Victoria shut her book and placed it on the table. Her teacup was empty, and I could tell she was eager to leave.

"Is there a need to vote?" Laurie's elbow was on the table. He propped his chin with the back of his hand, looking bored. "Shouldn't it just be Thomas and Anne?"

As he spoke, he stared directly at his wife, who was more interested in checking her nails than paying attention to any word he said.

I remembered when Laurie triumphantly stated that he was glad Thomas had introduced Victoria to him and that he intended to marry her. I knew there and then that he would soon regret his thoughtless decision. He was spoiled for being the youngest and thought he could get whatever he wanted. And when he didn't, his bitterness and jealousy had gotten the best of him.

If I were to be asked, I'd say that he'd be better off being an actor, or even a wanderer, going through the walks of life in the hope of finding a purpose. It would be good for him, and he'd thrive without being chained to this family, to that woman, to me. 

"No, not me," I said what I was supposed to say. The cigarette was burning to the end, and I was already aching for another. "Thomas should take the head and Laurie the other. The men in the family need to take charge of the table. And if Laurie doesn't want to, then it should be Lizzie."

A faint smile appeared on Victoria's plump, red lips. The woman on the other side of the table saw humor in my words.

"That's interesting." Lizzie leaned back in her chair. "I thought you'd agree with Laurie and vouch for yourself."

"Why would I do that?" I reached for the glass ashtray. 

"I'd choose Anne," Lizzie said firmly as she passed the ashtray to me. "Sure, I'll admit there are times I wish Mrs. Bedford had left you on Alameda Street instead of taking you in. But if it's business we are talking about, then I think we can all agree that Anne's doing more demanding work for this family than anyone else at this damn table. Laurie's too young for the job, and I'm not really a Murphy anymore."

Lizzie glared at Victoria, who responded with a faint smile.

"I'm only doing what I'm told." I lit up another cigarette. "Laurie should take the seat."

Victoria and I met eyes. I wasn't scared of her. I was never scared of her. 

"Then it's settled," Thomas cleared his throat, moved to his left to his newly acquired seat, and motioned Laurie to do the same. 

Laurie sighed. Not having a choice, he stood up reluctantly and sluggishly. Without reaching for his tie, he dragged his feet to the new seat and sunk into the chair, looking defeated. His left hand was on the table, half an inch away from my fingertips. If I reached just a little, I would touch his finger. He wasn't looking at me, and neither was I him. I was busy smoking the newly lit cigarette and wondering if he did what he did on purpose.

Thomas stood, observing everyone in his usual manner. I felt vulnerable and exposed under his never changing, impassive stare. 

"Before we talk about business, there's something I think you should know." His hands were behind his back. I wasn't looking at him, yet I could tell that his sight had landed on me after examining around the table. "Anne and I will host Wesley Lee tonight at my house."

Hearing that name, my motion froze before the cigarette could touch my lips. It quickly resumed, though it had become rigid and forceful. I heard Lizzie quietly gasp. Stiffly, I turned towards him. My pleading eyes were met with his tantalizing smirk.

"That's news to me." I pretended to be unbothered. 

"It's a good surprise, isn't it?" Thomas didn't attempt to hide the mockery in his tone. "I'm sure you've missed him."

He was staring right into Laurie's eyes as he said the last sentence in a slower than usual pace. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Laurie's hand was no longer within reach.