Xue Hua ran through the field, a blur of pigtails and laughter. Her little hands cupped around a red flower. Green eyes that haunted me every time I looked into them blinked up innocently. “Mama, look! Pretty flower.”
The flower consisted of an infinite red swirl of florets. I would recognise that flower anywhere. It was a red dahlia. I tasted bitter ash in my mouth as my mind snapped back to the day my daughter, Jade, died.
II That day, Jade had begged to take her new bike outside for a ride. The bike was purple, her favourite colour. She rattled the doorknob as I secured a helmet around her head. As soon as I let go of her, Jade dashed out the door and began pedalling furiously on her bike, luminous strands of hair streaming behind her. I shout for her to be safe as she becomes a purple dot in the distance.
The phone rang about 20 minutes later.
“Doctor Shu Mai? This is the local police. I’m so sorry, ma’am. There’s been an accident.”
“What accident?” I asked. Silence on the other side. This wasn’t normal. I waited for panic to overtake my body, for each nerve in my body to come into extreme alert, ready for action. A small part of me knew that this phone call was different, that there was no action to be taken.
“It’s your daughter, doctor. She’s been hit by a car.” I swallowed a lodge in the back of my throat.
“Where is my daughter?” My voice sounded foreign and robotic.
“The morgue, ma’am.”
I rummaged through my closet, looking for black clothes. My hospital scrubs fell out. Stupid, sickly green. Then I remembered, I didn’t have any black clothes. I never needed black clothes; all I ever wore were scrubs. I went to the kitchen, and cleared away Jade’s plate. I ran my hands through hot water until my skin burned. I scrubbed at the crack in the plate, as if I could magically erase the fracture. The porcelain cut my skin, and the water ran red. I should probably tell Jade’s father, too. Not that he cared about anything that happened to her. I can already guess what he would say. He would blame it on me. Why didn’t I go with her? How could I have let her ride on the streets by herself? He would ask, and I would listen, as if I hadn’t already asked myself the same questions a thousand times.
I didn’t even know how I got to the morgue. I saw Jade’s body, cold and unyielding on the table. For a moment, I imagined her just asleep, and as soon as I stroked her face she would wake up and her eyes would twinkle with mischief. But then I saw the dried blood caked on her forehead, and her arm bent at an unusual angle. Cuts and blooming purple patches decorated her torso like crushed blackberries. I squeezed Jade’s small hand, praying it would be enough to send a jolt of life through her. I fell to my knees beside the table. Every fibre of my being screamed for just one more laugh, one more hug, one more word, one more.
The police officer cleared his throat and helped me up onto my feet.
“Doctor?” He waited until I turned around, and averted his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he had been crying too. Jade had known this police officer. He was the one who nicknamed her “Little Yu”.
“Who did this?” I asked, my voice calm and distant. My lips felt numb, as if someone had turned my whole face to stone.
“An eighteen year old girl named Dahlia Tang. Has a history of drug abuse. She was drunk when she was riding her motorcycle.”
“Where is she now?”
“She didn’t go far after the, uh, accident. Dahlia’s being transferred to the local prison. Don’t worry, Doctor Shu. She’ll get the death sentence.”
I nodded. I made my daughter’s murderer one promise; her life is mine. As long as Dahlia stays imprisoned, I will find her. And when I do, I will be the one to kill her.
III The warden at Dahlia Tang’s prison called me to her office. I took off my black sunglasses as I sat down. With an eyebrow raised at my all-black attire, she handed me a cup of tea.
“Dahlia’s execution will take place tomorrow morning at nine. As you requested, I have asked the execution team to leave it to you to administer the final injection”, the warden said.
“Thank you.”
“Dahlia just gave birth to her baby girl three days ago. Thank God her daughter won’t grow up with a mother like her”, the prison warden sighed.
“A baby? She was pregnant?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yeah, I know, hard to believe. Never give evil people the chance to create evil babies.”
I put on my sunglasses. I patted the locket around my neck that contained a faded picture of Jade. I took a sip of my tea. It was green tea. My chest ached at the memory of a winter afternoon, right before Chinese New Year. I sat around the small kitchen table, mixing flour paste. The thick, sweet scent of green tea wafted from the teapot brewing nearby. Jade sat beside me, flour on her cheeks, her fingers sticky with paste. Suddenly, she burst into tears. I gathered her onto my lap.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I murmured, rocking her back and forth.
“It’s not snowing, Mama. It never snows here.” I laughed, and sprinkled flour over her head. White dust peeked through the ink-black strands of her hair. She giggled, and tipped the bowl of flour upside down over head, dancing under her snow. I almost didn’t want to mop up the kitchen floor that night.
The warden’s voice knocked me out of my reverie. She was eyeing my black clothes again.
“Shu Mai. Are you sure about this? It’s been a while since Jade died, and it looks like you’re still mourning. Maybe it’s best for someone else to do it.”
“No,” I slammed the cup down on the table. “I couldn’t save her. I’ve been saving people my whole life. I’m a doctor, for god’s sake!” I wiped away the stray tears that leaked from my eyes. “But I couldn’t even protect my own daughter.”
“There was nothing you could have done. She was dead the moment Dahlia hit her.”
I took a deep breath, steadying my voice.
“You need to let me do this. I have to be the one to kill Dahlia. I can’t live knowing that Jade’s killer is still out there, alive and breathing.”
The warden chewed on her lip. She finally nodded.
“Fine. But be careful tomorrow. Dahlia’s a psychopath.”
Outside the warden’s office, two doctors gossiped in the hallway in front a cell marked “HIGH SECURITY CRIMINAL”.
“Pity, eh? 18-year-old girl giving birth in a prison”, one of the doctors said, shaking her head. The other one grunted.
“Pity? I doubt it. She crashed into a little girl on her motorcycle. And remember how bad she was during the birth? Jesus, she almost bit my head off!”, the first doctor shuddered.
“Yeah, she’s horrible. I’m gonna ask for a pay rise just for standing there in the delivery room.” The two doctors walked off, discussing pay rises and Dahlia like all this had nothing to do with them, leaving the door to Dahlia’s cell open.
I felt my feet wobble, and all the blood in my veins turned into liquid metal. I stepped into the cell. The sterile room was white-grey. Paint peeled off the walls and fell in cracked snowflakes of decay. The girl’s eyes were the first thing I noticed. They stood out against the white walls; as brittle as chips of emerald ice. Unevenly chopped hair hung like black tendrils of broken icicles at the sides of her face. The hypnotising allure of her green eyes almost made me forget what she did to my daughter.
“What are you staring at?”, Dahlia growled.
I thought about what would happen if I grabbed the shackles around her wrists, tied them around her neck and pressed, until her gullet was blue and her strange eyes rolled into the back of her head. If I did that, I would be the one sitting on the same wood bed. My hands itched towards the sedative on the tray. I grabbed the needle, and held it behind my back.
I feigned an air of professionalism as my heart pounded in futility against its cage of bone and cartilage. My blood boiled.
“I’m Doctor Shu Mai. The obstetrician asked me to check up on you after the birth”, I said. Dahlia fixed a glare on me.
“Don’t you dare touch me”, she hissed, her teeth gritted. Her eyes were a forest set ablaze.
“Please, I’m just here to help”, I cooed. “I promise I won’t hurt you. How are you feeling today?”
I reached out, still hiding the needle behind me. My fingertips grazed her arm. In a flash, Dahlia’s mouth came down on my wrist and bit hard. I screamed. White-hot pain shot through my arm as blood oozed from the teeth marks on my wrist. Dahlia thrashed against her shackles like bullet ants were crawling all over her skin. Crimson red stained her lips.
I held my bloody wrist and ran out of the cell. The sharp pain obliterated everything in my mind except Dahlia’s face. She will pay for what she did to Jade, and the new Dahlia tattoo burning through the skin on my wrist is just a reminder of my promise.
IV Dahlia shuffled in, a small smirk playing on her lips. Four uniformed people shadowed her every step. As soon as I saw Dahlia’s face, my hands itched. I imagined my hands around her neck, strangling the breath out of her.
The execution team straps Dahlia in a gurney, and inserts two needles in her arms. I motion for them to leave, and turned to face Dahlia, the needle gripped tightly in my hands.
“You must take great pleasure in killing me today, Doc”, she taunted.
I ignored her, busying myself with preparing the injection. I let two drops of pellucid liquid dribble from the needle onto Dahlia’s arm. She winced slightly.
“Oh, come on, Doc. At least give me a smile. You finally avenged your daughter’s death.” She threw her head back and laughed. A horrible, maniacal sound. I clenched my hands around the syringe. How dare she speak of Jade. Dahlia saw the shock register on my face before I could hide it.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. People in this prison gossip, Doctor. That’s all we have left to do. And a little birdie told me that the little girl I killed was your daughter.” Her eyes widened in fake shock, and she cackled again. I’ve never heard a more repulsive sound. Vomit rose in my throat.
“If it makes you feel any better, I thought your daughter was such a pretty little thing. Pity I crashed into her. But that’s why you’re here, aren’t you?” “Why weren’t you with your daughter, then? Not so much a responsible parent, are we? You’re a doctor, after all. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t kill me the first time you came into my cell.” Dahlia’s lips twitched as she leaned as far forwards as her gurney straps would allow.
“Is it because you’re too scared?” She mock gasped. “Or is it because I bit you? How’s your wrist, Doc?” Another little chuckle. I wanted to rip the bandage off my wrist and let my blood flow until I had purged myself of Dahlia’s venom.
“You’re the type of mother to value your career above your child, Doctor Shu. I know, because I had a mother just like you. Maybe that’s why your beloved little girl died. Maybe it’s all your fault.” The last three words, although a whisper, echoed around the room in slow waves. A look of satisfaction crept onto Dahlia’s face.
“I hope you rot in hell”, I whispered as I plunged the needle into Dahlia’s arm, watching her eyes close for the last time.
I collapsed onto a chair, retching up the contents of my stomach. Dahlia’s body lay motionless across the room. I felt the doors of the torture chamber I built in the dark vaults of my mind shut.
V As I passed by the nursery in the hospital that night, I was startled when I caught a glimpse of bright green eyes. The baby’s eyes were a beautiful shade of green, a shade that felt eerily familiar. There was only ever one. On the crib hung a sign that read “Tang”. The name rang in my ears like a warning. Dahlia’s daughter.
Her tufts of hair were like Jade’s, each ebony strand a hair of lightning. The baby’s fingers curled around my pinkie. I immediately recoiled, then relaxed when she held on tightly. For the first time since Jade died, I felt my heart slowly unfold, beat by beat, petal by petal, in sync with the baby’s tiny tympanic heartbeat.
I settled in an armchair near the crib, and held Dahlia’s baby in my arms. I had forgotten what it felt like to hold a child. A peaceful hum fell over the night, and for once, sleep lulled me into its oblivion. My house appeared in front of me. Jade dropped her purple bike on the pavement, and ran towards me. I stood on the steps. Jade’s face lit up with a smile I missed so much it hurt. I opened my arms and hugged her close.
“I’m happy here, Mama. I want you to be happy too. I miss you”, she said, then looked lovingly at the baby’s sleeping form.
“I’ve always wanted a baby sister. She’s so tiny and beautiful, just like a snowflake. Call her Xue Hua, Mama.”
Before I could say anything back, a cloud settled over Jade’s face. I woke up, my arms held aloft around an imaginary shape. The baby still slept softly next to me. Morning sunlight filters through the hospital window, casting shapes on the tiled floor like sweet honey. I could almost see Jade’s smile manifest in the trickle of rays as I look out the window. I kissed Xue Hua’s forehead.
“We will miss you too”, I whispered.
VI “Come, sweetie, put the flower down. Time to go home.” I beckoned to Xue Hua.
She took one last look at the dahlia, as if memorising every speck of colour, and tossed it in the air. As the flower disappeared among the riot of red, a dangerous glint sparkled in her dark eyes. She rubbed a single blood-red petal between her fingers.
