Francesca lost the baby.

She didn’t rest. Instead, she hurried back to her grandmother’s wake, clad in plain mourning clothes, kneeling beside the casket as she burned joss paper for her.

A sudden night breeze rose.

The ashes of the joss paper scattered, carried aloft into the dark sky.

Francesca lowered her gaze. Tears cascaded, one by one, falling silently. “Grandmother, take this with you. Don’t be frugal up there. On every ...