A few minutes later, Kitty’s modest new pearl white Mercedes S-Class sedan pulled up at the curb, and Kitty emerged from the car. Corinna jabbed at her watch anxiously, and Kitty quickened her pace across the plaza. At least Kitty had diligently followed her advice in the appearance department and gone were the complicated up-do, the overly whitened face, and the burlesque-red lipstick.

In their place, the immaculately transformed Kitty only had a dusting of blush on her cheeks, a light apricot gloss on her lips, and a relaxed mane of chestnut-highlighted hair cut four inches shorter. She wore a baby-chicken-yellow Carolina Herrera dress with silk faille puff sleeves, low-heeled beige pumps of indeterminate brand, and a simple Givenchy green crocodile clutch, with her only jewelry being a pair of pearl stud earrings and a dainty diamond sideways cross necklace by Ileana Makri. The overall effect rendered her virtually unrecognizable.

“You’re very late! Now we will be noticed when we enter, as opposed to blending in with the crowd,” Corinna scolded.

“I’m sorry—this whole church thing has got me so nervous, I changed six times. Does this look okay?” Kitty asked, readjusting the pleats on her skirt.

Corinna scrutinized her for a moment. “The cross might be overdoing it a bit for your first visit, but I will let it pass. Otherwise, it looks quite appropriate—you no longer remind me of Daphne Guinness.”

“The church is inside this office building?” Kitty asked, a little confused as they entered the peach-marble-clad lobby of Glory Tower.

“I told you, this is a very special church,” Corinna replied as they went up an escalator to the main reception hall. There, a greeting table draped with ruffled blue bunting was manned by a trio of teenage greeters and several security guards. An American girl with a headset and an iPad came bounding toward them with a big toothy grin. “Good morning! Are you joining us for the main service or the Seekers’ Class?”

“The main service,” Corinna answered.

“Your names, please?”

“Corinna Ko-Tung and Kitty—I mean—Katherine Tai,” Corinna replied, using the name Kitty had used before she became a soap-opera star.

The girl scrolled through her iPad and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t see you on the list for Sunday services.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention—we’re guests of Helen Mok-Asprey.”

“Okay, yes, I see you here. Helen Mok-Asprey plus two.”

A female security guard approached and presented each of them with lanyards with freshly printed name badges attached in plastic sleeves. Printed in a vibrant purple font were the words “Stratosphere Church Sunday Worship—Guest of Helen Mok-Asprey,” followed by the church’s motto in italics: Communing with Christ at a Higher Level.

“Put these on and take the first elevator up to the forty-fifth floor,” the guard instructed.

When Kitty and Corinna reached the forty-fifth floor, another greeter with a headset stood waiting to escort them to an elevator bank across the hall, this one taking them up to the seventy-ninth floor.

“We’re almost there—just one more set of elevators,” Corinna said as she straightened the collar on Kitty’s dress.

“Are we going all the way to the top?”

“The very top. See—I told you to be early precisely because it takes fifteen minutes just to get up there.”

“All this trouble for a church!” Kitty grumbled.

“Kitty, you are about to enter the most exclusive church in Hong Kong—Stratosphere was started by the billionaire Pentecostal Siew sisters, and it is strictly by invitation. Not only is it the highest church in the world, at ninety-nine storys above the earth, but it boasts more members on the South China Morning Post’s rich list than any other private club on the island.”

With that introduction, the elevator doors opened onto the ninety-ninth floor, and Kitty was momentarily blinded by the light. She found herself standing in the apex of the tower under a soaring atrium, its cathedral-like ceilings constructed almost entirely of glass flooding the space with intense sunlight. Kitty wanted to put on her sunglasses, but she suspected this would elicit another scolding from Corinna.

The next thing to assault her senses was the blaring rock music. As they took a seat in one of the back rows, Kitty saw hundreds of worshippers with their hands raised and waving in unison as they sang along to the Christian rock band. The band was made up of a strapping blond lead singer who could have passed for a Hemsworth brother, a Chinese female drummer with a buzz cut, another white guy on bass guitar, three college-age Chinese girls singing backup, and a scrawny teenage Chinese boy in a green Izod shirt three sizes too big pounding away frantically on a Yamaha keyboard.

Everyone sang: “Jesus Christ, come into me! Jesus Christ, come fill me up!”

Kitty took in the whole spectacle with childlike awe—none of this was anything like what she ever imagined a Christian church service to be: the celestial light, the thumping music, the hunky rock god onstage, and best of all, the view. From her seat, she had a jaw-dropping bird’s-eye view of Hong Kong Island, from Pacific Place mall in Admiralty all the way to North Point. If this wasn’t heaven on earth, what was? She took out her phone and began snapping a few covert pictures. She had never seen the top of 2IFC up close before.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing? Put that away! You’re in the house of God!” Corinna hissed into her ear.

Kitty put away her phone red-faced, but whispered to Corinna, “You lied to me—look how everyone is dressed to the nines except me!” Kitty said, pointing to the young woman in the front row in a white Chanel suit, the three enormous Bulgari gemstone rings on her fingers sparkling brightly as she waved her arms back and forth.

“She’s the pastor’s wife. She is entitled to dress like that, but as a new visitor, you can’t.”

Kitty was aggravated at first, but as she gazed at the gigantic cumulus clouds in the crisp azure sky, with the roar of the catchy chorus in her ears and everyone around her singing their guts out, she began to feel strange new emotions stirring within. The dapper guy in the hounds-tooth jacket and tight Saint Laurent jeans next to her was screeching off-key, “Everything I need is right here, Jesus! Everything I neeeeed,” tears of joy streaming down his face. She found it strangely sexy to see this young hipster crying so openly. After half an hour of singing, the blond lead singer—who turned out to be the pastor—said to the congregation in an American accent, “It fills me with so much joy to see all your bright happy faces today. Let’s share the love! Let’s share the joy by passing it along to the person next to you! How about that?”

Before Kitty knew what was happening, the crying hipster turned to her and gave her a big bear hug. Then the middle-aged tai tai in front of her turned around and embraced her warmly. Kitty was stunned. Hong Kongers—hugging each other! How was this possible? And not just one or two friends who knew each other. Perfect strangers were hugging each other and introducing themselves. This was a miracle. My God, if this was what it was like to be a Christian, she wanted in right now!

? ? ?

When the service finally concluded, Corinna turned to Kitty. “At last, time for coffee and cake. Follow me.”

“I don’t want to spoil my appetite. Aren’t we going to Cuisine Cuisine for lunch?”

“Kitty, the whole reason I brought you here is so you can socialize with these people over coffee and cake. This is the main event. Many of the members are the younger generation of Hong Kong old-guard families, and this is the best chance you have of getting to know them. They will be much more accepting of you because they are born-again Christians.”

“Born again? How can you be born twice?”

“Hiyah, I’ll explain later. But the important thing you need to know about being a born-again Christian is that once you repent and accept Jesus into your heart, you are forgiven for all your sins no matter what they are. Whether you murdered your parents, slept with your stepson, or embezzled millions to fund your singing career—these people have to forgive you. Now what I hope to accomplish today is to get you into one of the Bible Study Fellowships. The group that everyone wants to join is Helen Mok-Asprey’s, but it’s a very closed circle of only the top ladies. To begin with, I would aim for the group led by my niece Justina Wei. It’s a younger crowd, and there are quite a few girls from good families in that one. Justina’s paternal grandfather, Wei Ra Men, started Yummy Cup Noodles, so everyone calls her the Instant Noodle Heiress.”

Kitty was steered toward a moon-faced woman in her early thirties. She couldn’t believe that this person dressed in a secretary-like navy pantsuit was the noodle heiress she had heard so much about. “Justina—hiyah, gum noi moh gin!*1 Meet my friend Katherine Tai.”

“Hello. Are you related to Stephen Tai?” Justina asked, immediately trying to place Kitty on her social map.

“Um, no.”