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
