It’s twelve years now since the Australian Chinese Daily carried the following item under Local News: “On the lower north shore, a housewife, aged sixty-one, committed suicide on Wednesday night by slitting her wrists and hanging herself.” It’s twelve years since everything changed. It was Tsiang, Au Poor’s daughter, who found her mother’s body. It was Tsiang, my son’s wife, who noticed blood leaking out from under the family’s garage door. May Ling, their two-year-old daughter, was asleep in the house. Tsiang was the one who found her mother hanging by her neck from a rope. I’m worried about Tsiang,…