192 The Meadow she acted like a hedgehog, either spreading out all the quills or rolling into a ball. She murmured, “Sorry. I am just tired.” “I know,” he patted her on the back, and added, “Take a shower, and go to bed early.” Ye took melatonin and went to bed. She remembered it was lunar New Year when that woman with red lips and red heels arrived because Mother always dressed them red for Chinese spring festival. The woman gave she and Hua a red pocket with lucky money. She guessed xiaomei was born a few days before. Ye drifted off, remembering dage was severely ill, and Father and Mother were busy running around for money. Everyone was poor. She saw the woman gave Mother a thick red pocket. The woman held xiaomei in her arms and walked out of her house. She tried to yell “stop,” but the woman turned around, “Shh!” She whispered, her skeleton hand covering Ye’s mouth. In the deep of night, Chou woke from long, shuddering sobs. He didn’t turn on the light but held her in his arms, her back against his chest, her unkempt hair brushing his face. “There. There. I am here. I understand,” said Chou tenderly, like a mother trying to calm her child.
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