Excerpt from China Dolls by Lisa See, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

My stomach churned nervously as I followed Ruby and Grace. They moved like dancers, which I wasn't. I was clumsy and scared, but a girl a couple of rows over lumbered like an old water buffalo. Even a crow loses its gait when attempting to roam like a swan.

"Let's start with each of you walking toward me," Mr. Biggerstaff said.

This part went fast. Either a girl could walk in a straight line or she couldn't. Either she had biggish breasts or she didn't. Either she was short or she wasn't. (Not that any of us was all that big— barely five feet or so, and not one over one hundred pounds.) Either she was pretty or she wasn't. Fifteen girls were thanked and dismissed on the spot. They were told to send other Chinese girls who were new to town and wanted work.

"Now give me four lines," Mr. Biggerstaff ordered. Ruby, Grace, and I ended up in the back. "Three steps forward, toe tap, two steps, kick, and turn to the right. We'll do four bars. Start on the right foot. One, two . . ."

Ruby moved well— delicate, like an ibis— but Grace was completely transformed. She was terrific, truly gifted. Charlie, Eddie, and Mr. Biggerstaff could barely take their eyes off her. She shone with each step, kick, and turn. At the other end of the spectrum, I was pathetic, and my dark and heavy clothes made me look even worse. Was I washing my face in a whirl of dust and disappointing myself needlessly? After several run- throughs, Mr. Biggerstaff asked everyone to get offstage except for the first line. Ruby, Grace, and I went back to the spot on the floor where we'd been earlier, only this time, instead of sitting cross- legged, Ruby slid down into splits and began to stretch. She was unbelievably limber. She was showing off, clearly, doing her best so that Mr. Biggerstaff, Charlie Low, and the others might notice her. I watched as Grace's eyes narrowed, calculating. She held Ruby with her gaze and slowly spread her legs until she, too, was in a complete split, and then she raised her arms over her head and lowered her torso to the floor. Oh, yes, she was better than Ruby. From her impossible position, Grace inclined her head to look up at me. I plopped down next to them.

"I'll never get the steps," I admitted mournfully.

"And you have no natural talent either," Ruby observed. It was the first time she'd spoken directly to me, and it was to say something that sounded pretty mean. But Grace elbowed Ruby, who grinned to show she hadn't actually meant me any harm. "This isn't real dancing. You're plenty beautiful, but you need to put some feeling into your walk."

"Quiet over there." Mr. Biggerstaff stared at us sternly. "If you want to talk, go outside. If you go outside, don't come back."

I pulled my lips between my teeth and bit down hard. My fingers twisted in my lap. The longer I was here, the more I wanted this. "One more time, girls," Mr. Biggerstaff said to the line onstage. "Five, six, seven, eight . . ."

"You can dance if you can count," Grace whispered. "Miss Miller, my dance teacher back home, drilled that into me. One, two, three, four. Five, six, seven, eight. Come. I'll show you." She led me to a corner, where we'd have space to practice. "It's an easy routine— one I could have taught the second and third graders in Miss Miller's school."

Grace explained that we were simply forming a big square. That I could hold in my head, even if my feet were still disobedient. Ruby came over to watch. She crossed her arms as she studied my movements. "Have you ever seen a woman with bound feet?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "I have. In Hawaii. You need to try walking like those women do— like you don't want to put too much weight on your feet."

This time, when I took the first three steps, I pretended that my toes and the bones in my midfoot were broken and wrapped in binding cloth. I imagined myself floating across the floor, avoiding the anguish that any pressure would cause, sending the illusion of fragility, of a cloud drifting over moss. I dreamed I was happy and in love.

Excerpted from China Dolls by Lisa See. Copyright © 2014 by Lisa See. Excerpted by permission of Random House. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.