Red Thread by Sydney Wang
A
n old Chinese legend states that everyone has a red string that connects them to the person they’re destined to love. Everyone has a string. A string of fate, of love and hope. Sometimes strings stretch and tangle, but never do they break. Destiny assured and etched into stone by the red knot tied around one’s pinky finger. But is fate so permanent? For not everyone is destined to a happy ending. And who is to say that life, such a grand and unpredictable power, can be held in check by a flimsy red string? “I feel like such a stalker,” I complained. “It’s for a good cause.” “You didn’t deny the stalker part,” I pointed out. Rose glared in response. “Quit being a drama queen.” Like the mature teenager I was, I stuck my tongue out at her. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon. Birds were singing, the temperature a pleasant 80 degrees, and the sun was shining in a cotton candy blue sky. Which is probably why I was miserable. “Quick, they’re moving.” My sister pulled on my arm, taking us away from the tree we’d been hiding next to and into the throngs of people that filled the outdoor mall. I sighed in acceptance, letting her drag me along. 9
“I got them to go on a date. I don’t understand why I have to follow them,” I muttered under my breath as we kept our eyes on the giggling couple. I’d spent a few weeks following the trail of the dull, red thread connected to our client. Painstaking months were dedicated to finding his fated partner, and when it was finally over I’d been eager to put it all behind me. Of course, Rose had then dragged me out of the house to stalk the couple, who were meeting for the first time. “It’s our job to see it through to the end, Zhu.” The annoyance at the familiar argument dripped from her voice. “We’re not the most successful matchmakers in the country because of half-assed work.” She emphasized her point with a condescending flip of her hair, like the explanation was obvious and something I should have understood from the beginning. “But the threads match,” I pointed out. “According to grandma’s destiny mumbo jumbo, they’re a fated pair.” Rose sighed. “Grandma also explained that the threads don’t always let people meet.” I scowled at the reminder of Grandma’s favorite lecture. “We’ve been given a gift that lets us circumvent barriers like time and distance, and we need to make sure that the threads will recognize their meeting and take their bond, Zhu.” “Fine, fine, just stop calling me that in public,” I growled, yanking my arm from her hold.
