She peered across the deck, saw the Chinaman's Hat in the distance, as the Tropicali made its idyllic journey past Oahu. A seascape of sailboats sliding through translucent green-blue water, whipped by wind.

She took a sip from the pina colada with the umbrella in it, adjusted her Vuarnets, and casually checked the straw Aloha bag on her lap. She saw the mahjong case containing the gold Pandas, the neat bundles of money, and the velvet pouch with the diamonds inside. After a moment, she put the drink down, and untied the Hermes scarf that had accompanied her from New York. She held it for a moment, letting it flutter in the wind, then released it, watching it sail free, disappearing into paradise.

In that moment she felt her soul set free, her body set free, from the oppression of men, of the world. She felt the tropical breeze through the gauze of the bandage on her thigh, the bullet wound healing, just a scab now. She knew the scars inside her might never heal, those memories were etched into her heart.

But here, and now, she was free, and nothing could force her back to that life again. She closed her fist over the jade, holding earth under heaven. Who could find her now?