The soup smelled so good to Granny Ng. She hadn’t had beef soup in years; her son and daughter-in-law were converts to Taoism, and had taken a three-year vow of vegetarianism. She brought the bowl to her lips, then hesitated. It was too hot to drink right then, but she didn’t want to be rude. Then again, she’d already burnt her tongue several times that week to avoid her daughter-in-law hitting her for eating too slowly. She peered around hopefully for a spoon.

“Granny, please allow me to speak for you,” said Kitty. She squatted on the ground next to Granny Ng and looked imploringly at the silver-bearded man. “It’s terrible in there, Uncle Chow. The staff beat the old people and steal their valuables. They hide their letters and have to be bribed in order to hand them over. On visiting days, they put on a big show of caring for the residents so the children don’t get concerned, but as soon as they leave it all starts again. We can’t let this poor granny end up in a place like that, can we? We can’t let her go from bad to worse.”

Uncle Chow scratched his beard. “Which old people’s home is this?”

“Does it matter?” sighed Kitty. Then she lowered her head as if admitting defeat. “My mother was in that kind of home.”

Uncle Chow considered Granny Ng as she blew on her soup. “How are you, Granny? Are you enjoying the soup?”

“It’s delicious,” she said, blowing harder on the soup. It was still too hot to taste. “The best I’ve ever had.”

“Uncle Chow here used to be a cook,” said Kitty. “He worked for some of the best hotels in the city.”

“Oh? How did you end up here?” asked Granny Ng.

When Uncle Chow smiled, she could see how densely packed his teeth were, like a dolphin’s. She imagined him pulling out one of his silver whiskers and flossing with it.

“Luck,” he replied.

“Luck?” said Granny Ng. “You think you’re lucky?”

“I didn’t say what kind of luck, Granny. Drink up your soup. It should be cool enough now.”

Uncle Chow and Kitty pitched a tent for Granny Ng close to the center of the settlement. Although it wasn’t something she usually did, Kitty accompanied Granny Ng to the small apartment she shared with her son and daughter-in-law and helped her gather some belongings into a duffle bag. It was clear that Granny Ng hadn’t packed a bag in some time; Kitty had to keep telling her to put things back, or explain that some things, like the rice cooker and the ironing board, were not practical to bring. Before they left, Granny Ng wrote a note for her son and taped it to the refrigerator door:

Dear Son,