“Only three. Reverend Bo will deliver the blessing, Bishop See will give the sermon, and Pastor Tony Chi will say the closing prayer.”

“What a pity. Is it too late to ask Tony to deliver the sermon? He’s so much better than that See Bei Sien,” Felicity scoffed.

Harry Leong groaned. “Can you speak softer? You two are giving me a migraine. If I knew you were going to argue all the way, I would have ridden in Astrid’s car.”

“You know your security won’t let you ride with her. She doesn’t have bulletproof windows,” Felicity said.

—

In the Jaguar XJL (which was not bulletproof) following behind them, Eleanor Young sat scrutinizing her son’s face intently. “I think next week I should make an appointment for you to see my dermatologist. Those puffy lines under your eyes…I’m not happy with them. Dr. Teo can do wonders with his laser.”

“Mum, it’s fine. I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” Nick said.

“He was up all night writing his tribute to Ah Ma,” Rachel explained.

“Why did it take all night?” Eleanor asked.

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write, Mum. You try condensing Ah Ma’s entire life into a thousand words.”

Rachel squeezed Nick’s hand encouragingly. She knew how much he had struggled over his speech, working on it until the wee hours and getting out of bed several times after that to make a change or add another anecdote.

Eleanor kept prodding. “Why should there be a word limit?”

“Auntie Victoria insisted that I only have five minutes for my speech. And that’s about a thousand words.”

“Five minutes? What nonsense! You were her closest grandson, and the only Young. You should be allowed to speak as long as you wish!”

“Apparently there are going to be a lot of speeches, so I’m just toeing the party line,” Nick said. “It’s fine, Mum. I’m very happy with my speech now.”

“Oh my. Who is that woman in the car beside us?” Rachel suddenly asked. Everyone turned to look into the Rolls that was trying to overtake them, where there was a woman wearing a black hat with a dramatic black veil draped over her face.

“Looks like Marlene Dietrich,” Philip chuckled as he drove.

“Aiyah, Philip! Pay attention to the road!” Eleanor yelled. “Actually, it does look like Marlene Dietrich. I wonder which sultan’s wife that could be?”

Peering over, Nick laughed. “That’s no sultana. That’s Fiona Tung behind that getup.”

—

In the backseat of the Rolls-Royce Phantom—the only Rolls in the stately procession of cars—Fiona fidgeted with her hat uncomfortably. “I don’t know why you made me wear this ridiculous veil. I can’t see out of it, and I can hardly breathe.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Kalliste can breathe just fine in hers, can’t you?”

Eddie’s tween daughter was wearing a hat and veil identical to her mother’s, and she stared straight ahead, not answering her father.

“Kalliste, I SAID: CAN YOU BREATHE?”

“She’s got headphones on, Dad. She can’t see or hear a thing. She’s like Helen Keller right now,” Augustine said.

“At least Helen Keller could speak!” Eddie said in annoyance.

“Um, actually, she couldn’t, Pa. She was mute,” Constantine responded from the front passenger seat. Eddie reached over and tugged his daughter’s veil aside. “Get those headphones off! Don’t you dare wear them into the church!”

“What difference does it make? No one will be able to see me under this thing. Can’t I just listen to Shawn Mendes while I’m in the church? I promise you his songs will make me cry buckets like you want me to.”

“No Shawn Mendez! And no Mario Lopez, Rosie Perez, or Lola Montez either! Kids, you are all going to sit in the church with ramrod-straight posture, singing all the hymns and crying pitifully. Cry as if I’ve cut off your allowance!”

“That’s really going to work, Dad. Boo hoo hoo, what am I going to do without my twenty dollars this week?” Constantine said sarcastically.

“Okay, you’ve just lost your allowance for the rest of the year! And if I don’t see you crying until your eyes bleed, especially while I’m singing my song—”

“Eddie, ENOUGH! What is the point of trying to force the kids to cry when they don’t wish to cry?” Fiona snapped.

“How many times do I have to tell you…we need to be the chief mourners at this funeral. We need to show everyone how much we care, because all eyes will be on us! Everyone knows that we are going to be benefiting the most!”

“And how would they know that?”

“Fiona, have you been in dreamland all week? Ah Ma died before she could make any changes to her will! We’re going to be the ones getting the lion’s share! In a few days, we’re going to become bona fide members of the three-comma club!*1 So we have to really go all out to display our grief!”

Fiona shook her head in disgust. At this moment, her husband truly made her feel like crying.

···

“Lorena, Lorena, over here! I choped*2 this seat for you!” Daisy shouted, waving from her strategically chosen aisle seat.

Lorena made a beeline for Daisy and saw the packet of tissues she had placed next to her on the wooden pew. “Thanks for saving me this seat! I thought I was going to have to sit with my in-laws. Is Q.T. still parking?”

“Aiyah, you know my husband doesn’t do funerals. Just the sight of a coffin will give him diarrhea.” Just then, there was a loud buzzing from Daisy’s handbag. “Wait ah, I’m going to take out my iPad. Nadine wanted me to FaceTime her from the funeral. She’s beside herself that she didn’t get invited.”

“What? Ronnie and her didn’t get invitations?”

“No, Old Man Shaw got the invitation, and of course he brought the new wife. They are two rows in front of us.”

Lorena craned her neck to look at Nadine’s father-in-law, the eighty-five-year-old stroke survivor Sir Ronald Shaw and his brand-new twenty-nine-year-old wife from Shenzhen. “I must say she’s very pretty, but I’m still surprised that Sir Ronald isn’t, you know, chee cheong fun.”

“Aiyah, these days with Viagra, even chee cheong fun can become you char kway.”*3 Daisy giggled as she activated the FaceTime function. Nadine’s dramatically made-up face popped up on screen. “Alamak, Daisy, I’ve been waiting and waiting! Who’s arrived? Who do you see?”

“Well, your father-in-law is here with your new…er…mother-in-law.”

“Oh, who gives a damn about them! How does Eleanor look? And what’s Astrid wearing?” Nadine asked.

“Eleanor of course looks great—I think she’s wearing that black Akris suit with notched lapels she bought when we all went to the Harrods sale a couple of years ago. Astrid hasn’t arrived yet, or at least I don’t see her anywhere. Oh my goodness! Who’s this? The Bride of Frankenstein just walked in!”

“What? Who? Hold up your iPad, let me see!” Nadine said excitedly.