“She can’t stay with Quan because she’s your future wife.” “What?” He laughed a little. This had to be a joke, but he didn’t understand the humor. “I chose her for you when I went to Việt Nam. You’ll like her. She’s perfect for you,” she said. “I don’ t— You can’ t— I—” He shook his head. “What?” “Yeah,” Quan said. “That was my reaction, too. She got you a mail-order bride from Vietnam, Khai.” Their mom glowered at Quan. “Why do you say it so it sounds so bad? She’s not a ‘ mail-order bride.’ I met her in person. This is how they used to do it in the olden days. If I followed tradition, I
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