“That is the correct reaction to this tea,” Vera says, taking a sip. “It is very rare, all my teas are rare, you know, and when it is picked, the farmers sob because the fragrance is so beautiful it reminds them of the celestial gardens in heaven.” “Really?” Oliver sniffles, fighting to get his emotions under control. Vera shrugs. “I don’t know, I make it up. Americans like it when I tell them stories about each type of tea.”
