They came in the darkness of early morning.

The hammering at the front door echoed through the courtyard and rolled up to the second floor where Tam Ling Fan’s family slept. It startled her brother, Jing Fan, awake and made his coughing start up again. Across the hall, Ling Fan pushed her silk quilt aside and thrust her feet into her slippers. She lit a taper from the brazier burning in a corner of her room and stepped into the corridor. Baba passed her, a lantern in his hand.

“Stay here,” Baba told her quietly. He was still in his daytime attire, a long gray tunic edged with silk. “Take this.” He pressed a piece of folded paper into her hand. She knew without looking that it was the railroad contract. “Keep it safe.”

Grotesque shadows flickered along the walls as he descended to the lower level. Ling Fan hurried to the low latticed wall overlooking the courtyard. From there she saw Baba cross to the outer door and unlatch it. The door flew open and four men pushed inside. Two held lanterns suspended from long bamboo handles, while the other two seized Baba’s arms.

“How dare you put your hands on the magistrate?” Ling Fan shouted down at them. She made a dash for the staircase, but somebody grabbed her arm. Aunt Fei had slipped out of her room, silent as a gui. Her grip was like a clamp, but her eyes were bright with fear. Ling Fan tried to shake her off.

“Don’t!” Aunt Fei hissed, drawing her back into the shadows. Ling Fan couldn’t see the men below now, but she could hear them.

“Tam Chung Ha, you are under arrest for conspiring with the outlawed Taiping Rebellion,” a tenor voice declared. Ling Fan would’ve gasped, but her aunt had clapped a hand over her mouth. She knew that voice. It was Ghong Fok, Baba’s second in command. What was this nonsense? The rebellion had ended almost three years ago, back in 1864. And her father had had nothing to do with it!

“Is it conspiracy,” Baba asked calmly, “to refuse to execute a poor man for stealing rice to feed his family?” There was no fear in his voice.

“It is when that order came from the provincial prefect,” Ghong Fok replied. “But you can explain that to him.” To the men restraining Baba, he added, “Bring him.”

No scuffle, no sounds of struggle. The outer door closed softly, leaving Ling Fan and Aunt Fei alone with the sound of Jing Fan’s coughs.