Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.

An American girl, a lost girl. Separated from everything she had ever known in the world. Just 18, but young enough to be scared to death. Her bright blue eyes and mahogany hair were a dead giveaway that this girl didn't belong. Her eyes met mine and I motioned to her with my left hand. She was shocked, like a deer in headlights; I could tell she was thinking, "why me." The look on her face was one that was asking for help - when she didn't come toward me I looked both ways down the alley and started toward her. She put the red hood over her head and turned her back to me. A black-sleeved arm came around the back of her and pulled her in farther into the doorway. She looked back at me and I knew I'd never see her again.