The Coat She Takes

In the morning, Shuyin moves the coat from the chair to the table. She has already put on her work clothes, but she keeps one hand on the coat’s folded sleeve while the kettle warms. The wallet and phone sit beside it, exactly where she left them. The room has the small, settled look of a place that has been slept in alone.

The red thread leads me to the table. I follow it as far as the objects allow, though there is no hospital passage now, no carriage window to carry me past the bed. I can keep pace with Shuyin’s choices. I cannot make them for her.

She opens the wallet and takes out the cards one at a time. Her thumb stops on his transit card. She turns it over, then places it with the others in a paper envelope. The loose coins go into the ceramic dish by the door, where her key used to sit before she tied it to the red hair tie around her wrist.

The phone remains dark. She finds a charger in the entryway drawer and brings it to the table. The cable reaches the outlet beside the chair. She plugs it in, then leaves the phone faceup while she finishes her tea.

A small battery symbol appears on the screen. Shuyin looks at it, then turns the phone facedown.

Her own phone buzzes. She reads the message and types with one hand: Come up when you’re nearby. Then she puts it in her pocket.

Shuqiao arrives carrying two paper bags from the bakery downstairs. She sets them on the counter and looks at the coat spread across the table.

“You found a place for everything?” she asks.

“Almost.” Shuyin picks up the envelope. “The wallet can stay with the paperwork. I don’t know what they’ll need from it.”

“I can ask.”

“Later. It can wait until I’ve eaten.”

Shuqiao opens one bag and takes out a bun. “Good. I brought breakfast before you could decide to call coffee a meal.”

Shuyin takes the second bun. She eats a few bites standing at the table, then lays a hand on the coat’s shoulder. The dark fabric still carries the faint crease from being folded inside the hospital bag.

“Are you putting it away?” Shuqiao asks.

Shuyin lifts it. The sleeves hang past her hands. “I’m wearing it.”

Her sister watches her hold it against her body. “Today?”

“I’m going to work.”

“All right.” Shuqiao bites into her bun. “It’ll be warm on the bike.”

Shuyin glances at the phone, still charging beside the chair. “I’ll leave that here.”

“You can decide about it when you’re ready.”