Chapter 51: The Garden of Hungry Ghosts

The temple gate opened onto a street that had not changed in forty years, and yet Wai-Yan flinched as if the light itself were a stranger. She had expected the world to look different—to see the ghosts of her people in every doorway, to hear the cries of the burning library in every siren. Instead, Macau just hummed along, indifferent and alive. A delivery boy on a scooter swerved around a tourist...