HONG KONG _ In the years leading up the 1997 handover of Hong Kong to China, hundreds of thousands of residents fearful of communist rule moved abroad. Virginia Tsang and her family stayed put.
When the city was shaken in 2003 by mass protests over a draconian national security law, and again in 2014 by the pro-democracy Umbrella Movement sit-in, Tsang remained on the sidelines.
Politics never worried her.
The demonstrations that erupted in June profoundly changed that. Enraged by government intransigence, police brutality and the decline of Hong Kong's autonomy, the 49-year-old bookkeeper has attended pro-democracy rallies nearly every weekend.
And now Tsang has decided to relocate to Edmonton, Alberta.
"This is my home. Until now, I never thought of leaving," she said. "But Hong Kong is no longer the same. It feels like a police state. I'm so scared."
Early Monday, matters took an even more perilous turn when Hong Kong police stormed a university campus held by protesters after an all-night standoff that included barrages of tear gas and water cannon. At daybreak, protesters remained in control of much of the campus and police suspended the attack, saying they would allow those inside to leave and proceed to a police station, the president of Hong Kong Polytechnic University said.
In some ways, Tsang's decision follows the tradition of her generation of middle-class Hong Kongers, so many of whom left long ago for the United States, Canada or Australia.
They are the children of mainland Chinese who fled a China afflicted by famines and purges. Mistrust of the Beijing government _ along with an instinct to seek safer pastures abroad _ is practically ingrained in their DNA.
The agonizing choice to start new lives thousands of miles away is often cinched by the belief they're giving their children a more secure future.
In this, Tsang is convinced of her decision. Her husband, an auditor for a financial firm, plans to remain behind to ensure the family has at least one stable income, but Tsang plans to take their 18-year-old daughter, April Lui.
No longer will Tsang have to beg her only child not to wear black, the color of the protest movement _ and a pretext for harassment by police or gangsters. She won't have to count down the minutes until 9:30 p.m. on weekdays, which is when Lui is expected home from tutoring classes.
"If you're not home by then, I have to go searching for you," Tsang told her. "Night is when the cops come out. It's like that movie, 'Nightmare on Elm Street.' "
