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CHAPTER 6 Mee-Kyong twisted around in her seat and examined the girl as best she could. She was a tiny wisp of a thing, even younger than Mee-Kyong had been when she first met Pang. “What’s your name?” The girl didn’t raise her eyes. “Sun.” “I’m Mee-Kyong.” She pressed against her abdomen, which protested in pain each time the broker’s tiny car sped over a bump in the road. “Have you ever been to China, little cousin?” Sun shook her head. “That’s a pretty dress,” Mee-Kyong remarked. “Thank you,” the child croaked pitifully. How long had she been screaming in the back before Mee-Kyong and Min-Ho heard her? Mee-Kyong winced and faced forward again, sitting carefully with one hip propped up to keep the weight off her sensitive areas. Don’t get attached to her, you sentimental wimp. You