A scant 48 hours ago, the Zhangs were living the Canadian dream, which is to say, they were also living the Chinese dream.
After arriving a few years ago from mainland China, Raymond and Sherry Zhang managed to buy a $350,000 house on a quiet Toronto crescent. Their only child made it into the gifted program at the elementary school a five-minute walk away. Cecilia, 9, skateboarded with kids on the street, played spritely piano and highlighted her silky black hair with streaks. She was fluently bilingual, deeply loyal to her friends and loved fishing on Lake Simcoe.
Then, last Sunday night, Cecilia vanished from her bed. Yesterday, the family was in seclusion at a neighbour's house. Police answered calls to their home.
"They're very calm, but they cannot sleep or eat. They hold one another," said Jack Jia, a newspaper publisher and friend who lives across the street from the Zhangs.
Mr. Jia said the family immigrated to Canada in 1997 or 1998 when Cecilia was a toddler. They moved to 33 Whitehorn Crescent five years ago, in time for her to begin kindergarten there.
Mr. Zhang (pronounced JONG) is a computer programmer for Sun Life in Toronto. Mrs. Zhang, a former teacher in China, recently opened up a tutoring agency, in a small office building near Finch Avenue and Kennedy Road. Both are in their 30s and speak moderately fluent English. They drive a red van.
"He's a typical Canadian family man," Mr. Jia said.
Mrs. Zhang discovered their daughter was missing Monday morning, around 8. Her daughter wasn't in bed, her coat had been left behind, a window had been jimmied open and a door left ajar, according to a source privy to the investigation.
No one apparently heard anything, even though eight others lived in the house. To help cover the mortgage, the Zhangs have five Chinese students as tenants. Four live in four rooms in the basement, which has a separate entrance, bathroom and kitchen.
A fifth student, a woman, slept in a bedroom next to Cecilia's, according to a source close to the investigation. Cecilia's maternal grandfather, widowed last year, slept in a third bedroom next to her. Mr. and Mrs. Zhang slept on the top floor.
On Monday, Mrs. Zhang rushed to the school around 8:15 hoping against hope that her daughter had gone to school on her own -- without her coat. "Her face was white," said someone who saw Mrs. Zhang arrive.
Teachers immediately checked the schoolyard and washrooms. Looking lost, Mrs. Zhang returned home. She did not call the police, a common enough reaction among mainland Chinese who have learned to steer clear of authority.
But when Evelyne Chadband, the school principal, heard that Cecilia had disappeared -- and a door had been left open -- she phoned Mrs. Zhang and told her to call the police right away. Mrs. Zhang called 911 at 8:27 a.m. Police arrived at their home and the school within minutes.
Perhaps coincidentally, a homeless man with a shopping cart had been loitering in the schoolyard on Monday morning, a teacher said. They had paid particular attention because of reports that a man had been exposing himself to children at schools in the area. One teacher followed the homeless man as he left the schoolyard. The police caught up with him at Finch Avenue and Victoria Park Avenue. It isn't known whether he is in custody.
The Zhangs are both university graduates from Jiangsu province, a prosperous coastal area near Shanghai. Because Mr. Jia, the neighbour, was also from Jiangsu, the families became great friends. Mr. Jia and Mr. Zhang often played tennis together at the Seneca Hill Tennis Club.
"He always beats me," Mr. Jia said, adding that Mr. Zhang played on his university tennis team.
Mr. Jia's son, Kevin, also 9, was in Cecilia's class until she made it into the gifted program this year. When Mr. Jia dropped by last week to pick up Mr. Zhang for a tennis game, he recalled that Cecilia, as usual, was practising the piano.
The Zhangs named their daughter Dong-Yue, which means eastern mountain. Cecilia became her Canadian name.
"As new immigrants, they are very strong-minded," Mr. Jia said. "They fought to make a living."
Monday at 5 p.m. was Cecilia's regularly scheduled piano lesson. She was advanced for a nine-year-old -- Grade 5 of the Royal Conservatory of Music. Normally, Mrs. Zhang would drop her daughter off at the Unison Piano School. Then she would go upstairs to her tutoring agency, Canada Holonet Inc. and Scholarsway. Yesterday, the door to her company was locked and no one appeared to be there.
Anthony Lim, a pianist and an owner of the music school, saw the news of Cecilia's abduction on television on Monday afternoon. He called her teacher, Grace Wu.
"We were shocked. We couldn't believe it was one of our students," said Mr. Lim, 71. "We looked at her photo, and we said, 'That's Cecilia.' "
At Seneca Hill Drive Public School, Cecilia remained loyal to her best friend, Gloria, even when her friend didn't make the cut for the gifted program. This fall, the two girls requested permission for the regular Grade 4s and the gifted Grade 4s to sit side by side in the lunch room. Every day, they would each sit on the end of the benches so they could still chatter away in Chinese.
Mr. Jia, the neighbour, often took Cecilia and her family fishing in his boat. He preferred swimming in Lake Simcoe, but the Zhangs were crazy about fishing. Cecilia, outfitted in a flotation vest, would reel in so many catfish that she would give Mr. Jia a pile for his family.
"We'd make fish soup together and drink Chinese liquor," said Mr. Jia, who publishes Chinese News, a semi-weekly.
It's no coincidence that Mr. Jia, a civil engineer who immigrated from China in 1989, is a neighbour to the Zhangs. The residential area, north of Highway 401 and west of the Don Valley Expressway, is a magnet for Chinese seeking a middle-class home with a green lawn, a private driveway and a good public school.
Almost 80 per cent of the students at Seneca Hill Drive Public School are ethnic Chinese, according to one teacher. A nearby mall offers five Chinese restaurants. The local Loblaws sells Chinese newspapers, in addition to ginger root, bok choy and snow peas.
Yesterday, Chinese residents expressed shock at Cecilia's abduction.
"I thought it was safe here," said Cai Yan, 22, who was on her way to accounting classes at nearby Seneca College. Ms. Cai, who rents a room at a home one street over, said that police had stopped by Monday to take down her name.
Like many mainland Chinese, Mr. Jia, the neighbour, isn't religious.
"But I prayed for her," he said yesterday. He can't quite believe she has disappeared.
"We still do not know the motivation. Why did they pick this neighbourhood? Why did they pick this particular home? Why did they pick Cecilia?"