Shadows on Water

Cold, old, rigid Hui, suddenly melts, and gushes tears. All the conceptions you had about her aloofness being a lack of feeling are gone now. She passes the cup she has brought from hand to hand, as you would something precious to you, and after a great sigh she throws it into the lake. And with that her sorrow seems to disappear. She turns to you and smiles. You had joked before that her skin would crumble into dust like old parchment if she did such a thing.

She hands you the scroll.

"We need not throw this in yet. You may like to read it first."

You unfold it. It does not crumble. You recognize your father's handwriting.