"Drew, I want to help you," Claire said softly, patting his shoulder.

Drew suddenly slapped himself twice across the face. "It's all my fault, all my fault..."

"Don't say that, Drew. It's not your fault." Claire grabbed his hand.

Camila turned from the passenger seat, sighing. "What's done is done. Crying won't bring the money back. Let's go home. Have a good meal. Get some sleep, and start fresh tomorrow." Drew nodded, and his shoulders still trembled.

When they arrived at Claire's doorstep, Grandma came out of the house with an iron basin. Inside it were cedar wood, red beans, and cinnabar.

She lit it with a match, and smoke began to rise from the basin.

"Drew, step over it," Grandma said softly.

Obediently, Drew lifted one foot and gently stepped over the basin.

began to mutter, "Step over the fire, ward off

set of new clothes. "Go take

to take his bath, Claire gathered the family in the living

slightly hoarse, "Mom, Riley, as a daughter, as a sister,

her eyes rimmed with red, and continued, "I think I've

mother, touched, squeezed Claire's hand and nodded approvingly. "Of course! I

brimming with tears. "Mom, but I'm not a good

She knew her mother always blamed herself for not providing a complete home, a carefree childhood, a strong

you mean by that!" Grandma suddenly demanded,

weakly. "If it were me in

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