Not anything ..flattering

On the drive home Minh just sat idly, watching as raindrops raced across the surface of the passenger window. Leaning her cheek on the cool glass she was reminded just how cold and late it had gotten. Occasionally when the lighting from the street lights hit just right she'd catch a glimpse of her unfamiliar yet familiar "new" face.

A chime came from her phone. Reaching into her pocket Minh almost flinched when she brought the phone up to her field of vision. Getting a nasty reminder of just how tan she'd become. Previously she'd been very pale. Due to her life as a career woman but also partly thanks to her mother that kept going on and on about how having a fair complexion meant status and wealth. Social norms still carried across from one generation of immigrants to another. The chime was a text message from her husband, wondering if she'd be home any time soon. Again left on read, poor guy. Then again, it's not like she was too far away either Minh rationalized.

Putting away her phone her mind swiftly drifted back to her biggest concern. Her grandmother. She could always try and ask her mother, but she'd almost definitely avoid answering, as she had for so many years already. And that's IF Minh could manage to catch her on one of her "clear" days. The Alzheimers had already progressed quite far unfortunately, simply having a conversation with her was rather difficult. She quickly dismissed the idea for the last time and instead started brainstorming possible options. Given her mother's apparent disdain towards talking about Dungh there had to be a reason. Either Dungh had been cruel to her children or she'd done things that Bian was ashamed of. "What could possibly be that bad?" Minh wondered. For someone to completely burn the bridge between not just their parent, but their entire heritage there had to be a very serious underlying reason. She could ponder this question for all eternity but it'd never reach anything more than pure speculation. Minh just couldn't shake the eerie feeling that her grandmother's profession had something to do with everything, but again. Pure speculation.

Had she only known just how right she really was. It'll become more and more apparent as Minh progresses, but her grandmother was indeed a streetwalker for an extended period of time. Growing up, Bian had been bullied and ridiculed for her mother's low class life. This in turn made her want to move away from Vietnam first chance she got, away from the shame. It was also the reason she was so obsessed with teaching class and the importance of reputation and working hard when raising Minh.

Upon arrival Minh paid with her company card, something she'd grown accustomed to with all the overtimes she'd worked over the years. Ordering food and taxies whenever necessary. As she exited the cab she pulled her coat up and over her head in an attempt to keep her hair relatively dry as she powerwalked towards the lobby of the apartment building. The person working the lobby desk had long since gone home for the day. She may be well off, but not well off enough to live in a building with around the clock staff. Perhaps with her promotion the increase in pay would warrant a move, if her husband agreed to it, of course. The clacking of her heels echoed through the lobby and continued as she got ever closer to the elevators. She scanned her keycard which automatically selected the correct floor for her. While the elevator slowly rose through the floors Minh's eyes were locked on the floor indicator. As she got closer to her floor the anxiety started building. There was no way of knowing how Clark would react to her new appearance. She'd always suspected he had a case of the yellow fever, so he might not be upset at all. In fact, this alone could get their marriage somewhat back on track. Yes, this might be a ..good thing. Just like the site had initially promised.

Arriving at her floor the anxiety that had started building on the way up had somewhat dissipated. With slightly lighter shoulders she tapped the keycard on the door sensor and entered the apartment. She was greeted by the strong smell of red curry, her favorite. Turns out her husband had made her favorite dish to congratulate her promotion. Unfortunately it had long since gotten cold and he'd ended up eating alone.. again.

Guilt washed over Minh as she got into the living room when she saw Clark sit at the long dining table with the sole company of a lonely, empty wineglass. His eyes met Minh's and to her surprise there was no immediate reaction. Surely he'd notice that she didn't look like herself? Unless..
To test out her theory she sat down right next to him, allowing him a good look at her face. Instead of curiosity or amazement there was a look of sadness and sorrow.
No doubt about it, Clark could see nothing wrong with the picture in front of him. As far as he was concerned he'd always been married to a woman whose features didn't do her half American genes any justice.