The smoke from her cigarette drifted through the falling snow, floating up toward the streetlamp. Across the way, the buildings’ windows were dark, making the flat, gray stones shine like ghosts in the orange fluorescent light. In the distance the young woman could hear a temple bell ringing, breaking the silence of the winter’s night.

It would be no surprise to her mother if Charlene stayed another night at the shop. Bernice was sure she couldn’t carry the workload her husband lef. . .