Even the boys were present, eyeing the spread food and their parents, looking frightened yet still innocent.
Mei cried. The crackling of the bowls and plates kept echoing in her ears. She was listening to a sound that scraped her own skull. And each of his words was like the sharp blade of a razor, cutting apart each vein under her skin.
Bing stepped on the broken plates, with furious eyes upon hers.
And her eyes too were fi xed on his, with pity.
