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Bích smiled. “Same, same, only different. It is colder. We are in Canada.”
    The fisherman’s home turned out to be a house set back from the highway in a forest. Hang had a glimpse of the heavy moss on the roof of the house and the peeling olive-coloured paint on the siding while being ushered inside to join her fellow passengers in the basement of the house.
    Once in the basement, Hang felt like she had entered paradise. The room was warm and the floor was scattered with blankets. There was a bathroom, complete with a shower for them to use, and even a television set. Few people from Hang’s neighbourhood would ever be able to afford a television set.
    Hang and Ngoc Bích looked at each other and smiled. Excited voices drew Hang’s attention to the far side of theroom where several of the passengers were standing near a stove.
A real stove! Not a hot plate.
Hang was awed.
That a simple fisherman should own such a place—is it possible?
    A large pot of boiling water was on the stove and some of the passengers who had arrived earlier were dumping Dungeness crabs into the pot. Hang and Ngoc Bích quickly joined in.
    A short time later, Hang crawled under a blanket. Her stomach was full and it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.
    It was many hours later when Hang awoke to the sound of a woman speaking English. The voice came from the television set and she saw Ngoc Bích staring at it intently.
    Hang joined her and Ngoc Bích said, “Good to look. Learn English.”
    Hang found herself watching a show called
CSI.
It was about the American police. It was a show she found engrossing.
They are the police and they are scientists. Very smart these American police ...
    The fisherman came downstairs to tell them that because the ship was early, they would have to stay in the house for another three days before continuing on.
    Hang smiled. She was anxious to meet her new family, but after what she had been through in the last six weeks, this was like being told she would have to stay in a palace.
    The fisherman produced the list of paper that Hang had seen prepared by the bald ape and the vulture in Hanoi. The names were called out and everyone was divided into two groups, except for Hang, who remained standing alone.
    Then came the bad news. Only half the women were being smuggled into the United States. The other half, including Ngoc Bích, would be staying to work in hotels in Canada.
    Hang pushed through the group and grabbed her friend by the arm. “Say something! Come to America with me!”

    Ngoc Bích took the fisherman aside and talked to him quietly. Hang saw him shake his head and she felt a lump in her throat. She wished that her father had sent Linh with her. Now the loneliness crept into her body like the morning fog that swirled past the doors of Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum.
    Ngoc Bích returned and said, “It is not all bad. I must work in Canada for only a few months. Then I will be sent to America. I have been selected to work at hotels owned by three men. They are Vietnamese. The Tran brothers. I am told that one of them is taking you to your home in America. He will know where you are. We will see each other in a few months.”
    Hang looked at Ngoc Bích and said, “You will not forget me?”
    â€œYou would forget your sister?” asked Ngoc Bích.
    â€œNo. I wish she was here now,” grumbled Hang.
    â€œIn Hanoi I told you I would be your sister as well. I will not forget you any more than I would forget my other brothers and sisters in Nha Trang.”
    Hang looked solemnly at Ngoc Bích before hugging her.
    The next couple of days went by quickly for Hang. She spent much of her time watching back-to-back episodes of
CSI
. A cube van arrived one morning and the women who had been selected to go to the United States were called.
    Hang collected her clothes and turned to hug Ngoc Bích, but the fisherman touched her