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      Thank you, Th

y, for the help you have given me in completing this novel.

      N.B. Due to technological limitations, accents in this book have been represented as best as possible, and are best viewed at a medium font size.

       chapter one

      It was ten o’clock at night in Hanoi as Bi

n stood at the back of the cargo van with his twelve-year-old daughter. The incessant January rain, coupled with a light breeze, made the fifteen-degree Celsius temperature seem colder. Bi

n had no idea that his dream for the future was about to become a permanent nightmare—or that the rear doors on the van opening in front of him were the gates to hell.

      The driver turned in his seat and gave Bi

n an impatient nod. Bi

n grimaced and shoved the plastic bag containing H

ng’s belongings into the van. Saying goodbye was difficult and it was more than the rain that made his cheeks wet.

      H

n’s two children. When Bi

n was given the opportunity for both his children to go to America he could hardly believe his good fortune. There was little future for them in Vietnam. He bent over to give H

ng another final hug.

      A swarm of motor scooters zoomed past like angry, wet hornets and disappeared into the night. Hanoi was like a hive when it came to scooters. Few people could afford cars.

      Bi

n ignored the scooters and forced himself to smile at H

ng. She smiled back, but the corners of her mouth twitched, revealing her nervousness. On impulse, she checked the pocket of her new coat again. Yes, the gift was still there. Wrapped in a small piece of tissue paper and tied with a pink ribbon.

      The silver necklace with the pearl from Halong Bay had cost Bi

n the equivalent of sixteen American dollars. An exorbitant amount of money, thought Bi

n. But the American lady will be grateful.

      Bi

n’s mind turned to H

n had opted to leave his other daughter, nine-year-old Linh, back at their apartment with her grandmother. It wasn’t simply that he didn’t own a car. He often pedalled with both children on his bicycle. The real reason was he was afraid he might cry. He didn’t want Linh to see him cry. Especially when she was scheduled to leave next.

      The children’s mother died of cancer when Linh was six months old. Bi

n’s own mother lived with them, but time had been hard on both her body and her mind. H

ng, despite being only three years older than Linh, had taken on more of a role of a parent than that of a sister.

      Bi

n started to close the doors but H

ng looked at him and quickly blurted, “Con th Скачать книгу