"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.

the fire, ward off the bad luck, start

a set of new clothes. "Go take a shower,"

Drew went to take his bath, Claire gathered the family in

speak, her voice slightly hoarse, "Mom, Riley, as a daughter, as a sister,

a deep breath, her eyes rimmed with

nodded approvingly. "Of course! I

brimming with tears. "Mom, but I'm

her mother always blamed herself for not providing a complete home, a

mean by that!" Grandma suddenly demanded,

weakly. "If it were me in trouble today, would you sell

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