The police were very efficient.
Before Ding Ding had even finished cooking the last dish, the phone in his pocket rang.
Zheng Xixi had burned charcoal at home. She was unconscious when the police broke down the door, and was now receiving emergency treatment at the hospital.
"Family and friends like you should pay her a little more attention. The officers at the scene reported that she might not really have wanted to..."
The officer on the other end avoided saying the word. "The window was open a crack."
Ding Ding offered little explanation. He thanked the officer, hung up, and went on cooking.
Bai Congming sat on Ding Ding's feet, peeling garlic they had no use for in this meal. After listening to the call, he looked up and asked who it was.
"Kids shouldn't ask."
"I'm not, a kid," Bai Congming huffed. "I, know everything."
Ding Ding turned off the heat and plated the stir-fried pork liver. He wiggled his toes, and the weight pressing down on his feet disappeared.
"Then what do you know? Tell me."
Ding Ding asked offhandedly, not expecting an answer.
After all, Little Bai's bewilderment back in the courtyard had been real enough.
But Bai Congming stood up, put the peeled garlic in a small bowl, and answered in a very calm voice.
"The white-haired sister, is going to die."
The plate of pork liver paused in midair, then made a soft clink as he set it down.
This was the first time Ding Ding had heard Little Bai use the word "die" about a person.
In Little Bai's world, a broken light was dead, and an old phone was dead too.
But his mother who had passed away was different. She had gone, had left, had moved into the bougainvillea.
Ding Ding