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almost decided against her plan when she was heading down the elevator, but decided she needed to conquer this fear. She didn’t want to end up like Dimitri, hiding away . She knew she would be nameless and faceless among the residents of the city; she could blend in as long as she didn’t show her arms or torso.
    She decided to not call their driver and hopped on a bus. She rode to Central Station and bought herself a Coke, feeling giddy with this small act of rebellion. She watched the crowds pass for a time, overwhelmed by the sheer number of people coming and going. She was going to head back when a little voice encouraged her to spread her wings farther. It might have been her reaction to losing to the concierge every time they fought, it might have been the bitter bile she’d bottled after speaking to her mother…or it might have simply been her long-suppressed wild side, but she decided to listen.
    She bought a ticket and got on the Star Ferry to Tsim Sha Tsui, intending to hit the open-air markets in Mongkok. She sat near a window and felt the ocean breeze on her face, listened to the Cantonese and various languages around her and basically enjoyed her time alone.
    She walked all the way to Mongkok, pausing along the way to shop at some of the nicer places on Nathan Road, dodging the hawkers and their calls of, “Madam, handbag? Copy watches? Madam?”
    She might have followed them to their stores a year ago, but these days she didn’t need to purchase knock offs. Her trip to the market was more for the experience than to haggle for counterfeit Ed Hardy clothing and Coach purses.
    She found the Lady’s Market and was not disappointed. She cursed her greed along the way and found it difficult to maneuver through the thick clots of people with all the shopping bags hanging from her wrists.
    Columbia felt absolutely uplifted with her freedom though. The scents of the street, even the bad ones coming from food stands and restaurants made her feel connected to the city somehow. She took in the movement of the crowds and the sharp sounds of languages foreign to her ears. She loved every minute of it and felt positively exotic, like an early explorer on a grand adventure. She paused and got caught up staring at a stall of Angry Bird stuffed toys, wondering if pink haired Ethan-loving Eden would even like these things anymore.
    She felt a tug on her hand and in a flash a young man made off with several of her bags. “Hey, stop him!” she cried out but nobody heard or cared. She was one of a million people on the streets today, and nobody wanted to get involved.
    She raced after him and luckily the thick crowds catching on her shopping bags slowed him. She almost caught up right before he darted into a side street. She ran around the corner and saw a flash of colour near the end of the block and he turned yet again into another side street. She was in hot pursuit, too fast and angry to notice that she was being lead into a trap.
    She dodged around the corner and he was standing there, bags on the ground and kicked to the side. It was then that she noticed how dangerous he looked, this was no common street thief, she was sure of it. He was Chinese, much taller than her, lean and strong. His hair was cropped short and his clothing was stylish but loose in the fashion of Hong Kong’s underground cage fighters. His eyes were beautiful, too deep and soulful to belong to a petty criminal. He looked more like a poet than somebody who steals for a living.
    She determined that he must belong to one of the more powerful gangs to be found here, but Columbia could see no tattoos. Dimitri had been schooling her in the monarchy of the underground, the various gangs and organizations found worldwide. He felt it necessary to know who she was going to kill when the time came.
    “Just give me the bags and I’ll let you go,” she told him, hoping he’d not noticed the tremble in her voice.
    “You’ll let me go?” he said in