What involvement Zelda lacked in running Ogden's railroad empire, she made up with her own philanthropic endeavors. Over four carefree decades, she'd held various positions that allowed her to hob-knob at fancy dinners while hitting up New England socialites even wealthier than herself in support of causes near and dear to her. She'd been secretary of the Ladies' Christian Union, co-founder of the Relief of Orphans Foundation, fundraising chair for the New York Historical Society and a trustees for the Metropolitan Museum of Art among countless other volunteer roles. And while she never expected anything in return, having access to the latter's chief curator for the Far Eastern art collection was an opportunity she wasn't going to pass up.

"And you say this came to you from China?" asked Thaddeus Marx as he held the brooch up to a spotlight in the museum's restoration lab.

Zelda stepped closer. "I believe so. Can you tell me anything about it?"

"Well, the setting is certainly contemporary. I wouldn't be surprised if the metalwork turned out to be Tiffany and Co. But as you know, that's not my area of expertise," Marx said as he turned off the light and moved to a table holding specimen boxes.

"What about the stones? Could those be authentic?" Zelda asked with increased anxiety. If the brooch was just some bauble anyone locally could have sent her, then the note warning of a danger to Ogden could have been a ruse.

Marx placed the jewelry under a large magnifying glass. Pushing his own glasses on top of his head, he peered into the refractive lens. "Jasper, quartz, and jade. All typically found in Chinese ornamentation. The lotus is also a common motif, so there is nothing unusual about its depiction."

Zelda's dejection grew, but she couldn't give up just yet. "Look harder, please. The provenance of the piece is of great import to me. One could say it could be a matter of life or death," she said.

The scholar kept his focus on the brooch. "If I could have more time to analyze—"

"I need to know as much as you can tell me now," she demanded, feeling a rush of power follow the authoritative words. It was an unusual sensation. Is this what it felt like to be a man?

Marx straightened, but instead of a rebuke, he tottered to a nearby chair and sat. "Well, I wasn't going to mention it, but because you are hungry for facts and a full scientific analysis is out of the question—"

"Yes, yes go on," Zelda urged, making a sweaty lump of the silk gloves she was nervously balling in her grip.

"The flower of the lotus is an enigma. Nurtured by mud, it overcomes its humble beginnings and thrives as its magnificent blossoms open one-by-one while reaching for the sun. The Hindus associate the lotus with Buddha and his divine quest to find nirvana, while the Egyptians went further and claimed it could resurrect the dead. It is said that a lotus seed can withstand thousands of years without water and still regerminate, showing a remarkable will to survive."

Zelda was enthralled.

"There is a legend," Marx continued as his voice fell into a cadence oft used by storytellers to set the scene. "Centuries ago, a foreigner from a distant land found himself in the court of the Emperor. The Emperor, being a faithful servant to his people was wary of the poison that outside influence on his domain could bring, but he stayed open-minded for the sake of progress. When he began to suspect the newcomer was driven by greed and malice, however, the Emperor burned the foreigner alive."

Zelda gasped, but Marx wasn't yet done.

"Soon, the man's wife came looking for her husband, sure that he had brought prosperity to the Empire, as he had also done in his homeland. Realizing his great error in judgement, the Emperor tried to console the widow with riches, including a token in the shape of a jade lotus. But the woman's grief couldn't be bought and she tossed the trinket into a nearby pond. The next morning, as she was about to depart the palace, they found on the same spot a lotus holding the unblemished—and very much alive—body of her husband."

Zelda held back tears. This was what she had been looking for! The story couldn't have mirrored Ogden's predicament any better than if she had written it herself. But if the jade lotus could prove to be the ancient foreigner's salvation in the legend, then surely it would aid in getting Ogden home, as well.

It was settled. She had the proof she needed to verify the note's validity. She was going to China.

As soon as Zelda Crowe had left his lab and the door had shut behind her, Thaddeus Marx reached for the telephone and asked to be connected to the number on a slip of paper he kept in his pocket.

When the operator established the connection, it didn't take long for the other end to pick up.

"You were right. She came straight to me," Marx said without waiting for acknowledgement.

"Good, that means she got my gift. Does she suspect anything?"

"Nothing of consequence. But she had questions."

"What did you tell her?"

"Not the whole truth, naturally."

"Will it be enough to set her on track?"

"Absolutely. She's heading straight to the Chelsea Piers now."

Click.

"Hello? You still there?"

"Did you find the answers you were looking for?" Catherine asked after Zelda joined her in the back seat of the Jordan Model F and the chauffeur began to drive.

"I did," she replied, looking out the window at the passing brownstones, elegant reminders of the Industrial Revolution.

Catherine shifted in her seat as the car hit a pothole. "So you remain undeterred from this foolish endeavor?"

Zelda looked at her daughter and furrowed her brows. "I am getting on that ship irrespective of your objections if that's what you mean," she said sternly. Bending to the whims of a husband for forty years was certainly one thing, but to now get the same amount of derision from her lone child was unacceptable.

"Very well," Catherine sighed and looked away, but the anxious manner in which she gripped her fingers in her lap belied her indifference.

Zelda reached over and took her hand. "You mustn't worry. I am quite capable of sitting on a ship—"

"Several ships," Catherine corrected.

"Yes, several ships," she repeated before continuing, "and trains, cars, and even donkeys if I must in order to get to my destination. And remember: I will not be alone, for you have made sure of that. I will have Dr. Santiago Caruso at my side during the entire journey. Surely you can put your faith in a man of irrefutable virtue like him?"

ONC running wordcount: 4,294