Haiwen cried. For everything he had lost, for everything he missed. His nephew growing up. His sister getting married. Caring for his father and mother as they aged. The chance to marry Suchi and share a life with her—though this was, of course, a sorrow complicated by his love for Linyee and the girls. His children would never learn Shanghainese, never bite into his mother’s flaky turnip pastry and watch a wisp of hot steam curl out of it. The old regret of never getting to study at the music conservatory or become a professional violinist—a regret that had once caused pain to twist in his
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