Four Months Later...

Alex shut the taxi door behind her and looked up at The Moncrief hotel. The red brick building rose high into the partly cloudy sky and took up the entire block in busy downtown Boston. She took a deep breath, forgetting for a moment to restrain her senses. Exhaust fumes, hair spray, pigeon feathers, perfume... thousands of scents accosted her at once making her nauseous.

"Are you alright?" The taxi driver placed her suitcase on the pavement, looking at her with concern.

She lowered her hand from her mouth, giving him a small smile. "I'm fine, thank you."

"If you say so." Not looking convinced, he headed back into the drivers seat.

"Can I help you with that, Madame?" One of two white-gloved doormen stepped forward as she grabbed her suitcase. She cast a sideways glance at his companion who tipped his hat at a departing guest. The scent of bergamot drifted to her nose.

"No, thank you." Alex sidestepped the surprised man and walked into the lobby, rolling her suitcase beside her. Cream marble floors interspersed with carpeted seating areas, a grand fireplace and large-leafed potted plants greeted her. There had to be several dozen people milling about, some chatting over tea while others waited to check-in at the front desk at the far end of the room. Alex followed the sound of soft ringing to find the elevators that were located past the concierge.

"Madame, can I help you?" A brunette in a power-suit approached with a wide smile, her name tag declaring her to be 'General Manager Delores'. Alex guessed that her own outfit of green fisherman trousers, espadrilles and cream knitted sweater made her look like an unlikely guest at the five-star establishment. The high-up general manager was handling a potentially problematic guest personally.

"Yes, actually. Can you tell me on which floor I can find the main restaurant?"

Delores did not give any of her thoughts away as she smiled politely. "Of course, it's on the 24th floor. You can find the restaurant to your left when you get off the elevator. And, Madame?"

"Yes?"

"We would be happy to store your luggage for you here at the front desk. Finding a space for your suitcase inside the restaurant may prove cumbersome."

Alex nodded, familiar with hotel security from her youth. Blake Corp owned several hotels on the west coast and she had loved joining her parents on inspections. Checking the quality of the service, the food, the little shampoos in the rooms...James used to call their weekend stays 'spy outings'.

Knowing the security team would follow her every move if she declined, Alex pushed her suitcase forward and let it go. They could scan it under the guise of keeping it safe for her; they would find nothing but a few clothes and toiletries for their trouble.

"Will I pick it up at the concierge desk?"

Dolores took the case just as the elevator behind them arrived. "Yes, of course. Can I just take your name?"

Alex moved two steps to the left, giving the guests getting off the elevator a wide berth. Despite living with her fake I.D. for over ten years, she had rarely used it. At the Monastery the monks called her xiǎo lǎoshǔ, little mouse. Later, after she discovered Lauren had lied to her about providing her with a house and money, she used the fake name to try to get a loan from a bank. That flopped of course, with no credit history and no job. Luckily, Alex had been able to find a job in the kitchen of a tiny eatery in Hongcun village.

The older couple who owned the place gave her a small wage, free meals and the use of the empty storage room above the shop. The smells of the poor quality produce and neighbouring chicken-feet shop hadn't been easy to stomach, but Alex had made do. Before long, she convinced the owners to serve only chicken and rice. A year later, with business booming and her wages tripled, she managed to buy the hut in the forest that would become Xiāngwèi.

"Alex," Alex told the waiting manager, "Alex Turner."

"Thank you Ms Turner."

Walking into the now empty elevator, Alex pressed the button marked 24 and turned back to Dolores who gave her a curt nod before dragging the suitcase away. The elevator doors closed, their shiny surfaces reflecting her impassive face. No veil, no pollution mask, she wasn't used to having her face uncovered, but in this city wearing those things would make her more memorable. It had become a habit to hide her face in Hong Kong, after all it would take one person to recognise her for all hell to break loose. Within days the world would know and then James would know.

Thinking about her brother sent a twinge of pain through her chest. When she first agreed to fake her death, Alex was fairly certain she was not going to live much longer. Later, after spending several years at the monastery and finding a way to survive, she thought about getting in touch with him. She wanted to see him more than anything, but the truth was, even though she had found a way to survive, Alex would still be a burden to him. If she knew her brother, he would make her misery his own. Plus, he would be angry. At her and at his wife for their lies.

No, Alex could not reveal herself. Yet the chances of anyone taking notice of her in Boston were slim. In Hong Kong she was one of few Americans, so looking like the girl who died there a few years back made for an unlikely coincidence. Here she was just Alex Turner, an unknown chef. Nevertheless, old habits died hard and Alex couldn't help reaching up and pulling the black cap on her head further over her face.