There was no turning back. Standing at the corner of Canal and Mott, Alex Kwan checked her watch and gazed into the sea of unfamiliar faces. It was noon, and the sidewalks of Chinatown were already filled with bustling Asian grandmothers and wandering tourists, drawn by the barks of merchants peddling everything from underwear to snapping baby turtles. A petite young woman with long, jet hair and steely charcoal eyes, Alex stood out from the crowd in her crisply tailored, black linen suit. She shivered a little as she wondered how she had let her friends talk her into ditching work for this latest, unexplained adventure.

“Alex!” a familiar voice called. “Over here!”

Alex turned around to see her two best friends, Lin Cho and M.J. Wyn, hurrying toward her. They were quite the odd couple: Lin, with her perfectly coiffed hair, pashmina wrap, and expensive silk sheath – and M.J., with her ponytail, layered Billabong T-shirts, and cargo pants. A stockbroker and sportswriter respectively, they occupied opposite sides of the spectrum in both appearance and personality. Alex was so busy grinning at the contrast that she almost didn’t notice their companion: Lin’s diminutive mother Kim.

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Cho, nice to see you…” Alex was completely befuddled at the sight of Lin’s frowning, force-of-nature mother. Lin and M.J had never mentioned they were bringing her along.

“Hello, Alex-ah,” Kim greeted her in her usual grave manner. “You look thin – too thin. You eating? You lawyer – you need to eat more so you can use your brain.”

Lin groaned, but Alex couldn’t help smiling. She’d known Kim since she was a child; Mrs. Cho was close friends with Alex’s mom, and the girls’ mothers had all become friends after shuttling their daughters to the same Chinese school for years. For some strange reason, Alex was never as bothered by Kim as Lin was, perhaps because she understood Mrs. Cho’s mother-bear instinct all too well.

“A yi,” Alex said, politely addressing Lin’s mom as ‘Auntie,’ “if I had known you were coming, I would have invited my mother –"

“Actually,” Lin interrupted, “Mom is here to take us to ‘Tai-Sheung’.”

Alex blinked. “Tai – what?”

“She means we’re going to get our fortunes told,” M.J. explained.

“It’s not as simple as a fortune-telling,” Lin paused, momentarily distracted by a display of knockoff Prada handbags. “A lot of Chinese people believe that a person’s destiny is determined by the relative yin and yang properties of their face. The woman who we’re going to visit – Auntie Lee – is supposed to be really uncanny in reading people’s features. She’s done this for every one of my aunts and most of their kids too.”

Alex frowned. “But…why are we doing this?”

“Because,” Lin said, “it’s tradition in my family to go have your face read when you have a birthday. And since I just celebrated mine, what better time for all of us to get our fortunes told?” She lowered her voice. “Plus, my mother won’t leave me alone…I could really use the company!”

“It could be kind of fun.” M.J. elbowed Alex. “Don’t you want to know if you’ll live happily ever after?”

“I don’t know,” Alex hesitated. “What if she tells me I’m going to end up a crack whore in Times Square?”

“Don’t be silly!” Lin interjected. “Would M.J. and I steer you wrong?”

Alex smiled and rolled her eyes. The three women had been friends for years, longer than she could remember. They had been mere munchkins when they were first brought together at their families’ holiday gatherings. They had their differences, of course; M.J.’s hip-hop sportswriter lingo often seemed like a foreign language, and Alex and Lin had conflicting views on just about everything. Plus, Alex was a few years older than Lin, who had just turned 27, and M.J., who was 26. Despite all that though, there was an unshakable bond between them that had shielded their friendship from all assailing forces through the years.

“It time for appointment, Alex-ah,” Kim said briskly, “we go see Auntie Lee now.”

And that was that.

Auntie Lee’s was nothing like what Alex imagined it to be. She had envisioned some mysterious, gypsy-like creature swathed in scarves, predicting death and doom in some dank, dark cave. But Auntie Lee’s parlor was a bright, incense-filled little room with red silk lanterns and black lacquered wall coverings, and Auntie Lee herself was a tiny, grandmotherly woman in a plain black meen-nap, a Chinese quilted jacket, who looked downright…sensible.

Still, Alex hung back as they all entered the room. Sensing her hesitation, M.J. gave her a comforting smile and nudged her toward the fortune teller, who took Alex’s hand in hers.

“Don’t look so scared, child. Sit down, and let me look at you.”