“Auntie Lois will hate this,” she says. “She’s tried so hard to make me a Christian.” “You can’t make someone believe,” Auntie Zeng says, frowning. “But you still can be a Christian, if you want to.” “How?” Cora says. Auntie Zeng’s eyes water. She rises to her feet, opens a window, lets plumes of smoke into the sky. “It’s not about my gods or your Auntie Lois’s God being the right one. There are thousands of gods that open thousands of doors to anyone who knocks. It’s about deciding which doors you want to open.”
