Chapter 1

The day the redevelopment office announced our old family compound qualified for five houses and six million dollars, my grandmother suddenly came down with dementia.

The household registration papers and the old property deeds we needed for ownership verification and signing, she couldn't remember where she'd put them.

The moment word got out, my aunt and my uncle, who hadn't come home in ten years, bought overnight tickets and rushed back.

One was down on the floor prying up tiles, the other was up on the roof beam tearing off shingles.

And Grandma Fox huddled behind the door gnawing a raw sweet potato, grinning like a fool and drooling at them.

My mother yanked me aside and shoved a nail clipper into my hand.

"The old lady's out of her mind, but she still knows you. Go over and trim her nails, and listen to whatever she's mumbling."

"Just get her to let slip where the deed to that land on the east side is, and this family's set for the rest of our lives!"

I crouched in front of Grandma and had just lifted her hand.

Spitting out sweet potato skin, she leaned her face to my ear and said,

"Sweetheart, go grab that mink coat your aunt spent twenty grand on, and use it to line the dog's kennel."

...

A chill shot straight up my back.

For a second her cloudy eyes had gone clear, but by the time I blinked and looked again she'd split into a grin, drool sliding down her chin onto her shirt, patting her hands at me like a simpleton. "Sweet, sweet potato... sweet!"

I tightened my grip on the nail clipper.

Ten years. For ten years my aunt and my uncle had left the old lady out here without a word.

Not a cent transferred, not so much as a bag of groceries bought.

Now that the demolition money was coming, suddenly they were more devoted than anyone.

I stood up and slipped quietly into the east wing room.

My aunt's suitcase lay open, and that genuine mink coat she'd bragged about over and over since arriving, the one she said cost more than twenty grand, was draped right on top of the bedding.

I scooped it up, walked briskly out of the room, and threw it straight into that big iron cage in the corner of the yard that reeked of sour filth.

The old yellow dog usually ate scraps and was caked head to foot in black mud.

Seeing something soft and furry drop in, it spun around twice in delight, then plopped its rear right down on it and stretched out its tongue, licking back and forth across the fur.

Not two minutes later my aunt came charging out of the west room wiping sweat, cursing under her breath.

"Where the hell did that old hag stuff the deeds? I've all but chopped the bed slats into firewood and still nothing!"

She looked up and saw the yellow dog rolling around on her mink coat.

A whole clump of fur in the middle had already been torn off by its claws.

My aunt froze for three seconds, then shrieked. "You wretched beast! My mink! That's pure mink, twenty-eight grand, I had someone buy it for me!"

She flung herself at the cage like a madwoman, snatched the broom from the corner, and started whaling on the dog.

The dog turned vicious, baring its teeth and barking wildly.

It clamped down on the hem of the coat, and woman and dog went at it in a tug-of-war across the yard.

With a loud rip, the coat tore clean in two on the spot.

My aunt landed hard on the ground, eyes red, staring at the ruined pelt in her hands.

The next second she got up, took two steps over to me, and jabbed a finger straight at my forehead.

"Cecily Fox! Was it you, you worthless little burden? Nobody in this yard touched my case but you! You're paying for my mink!"

And with that she raised her hand to slap me across the face.

But the slap had barely stirred the air when there was a sudden splash behind her.

A whole basin of sour, reeking water poured right over my aunt's face.

Vegetable leaves and rotten scallion skins hung all over her head, the foul water dripping down her hair.

My aunt choked and coughed, wiped a hand across her face, and screamed, "Who! Who threw that?!"

There stood Grandma holding a plastic basin, hopping around and cackling. "It's raining! Watering the flowers! The kennel's nice and warm, the gold bars and the deeds are all buried under the kennel!"

The whole place went dead silent.

My aunt didn't even bother wiping the water off her face. Her voice shook a little. "Ma! What did you say? The deeds are under the kennel?!"

Grandma paid her no mind at all. She turned, hugged the doorframe, and hummed some tune no one could place.

"Big Yellow guards the house, gold bricks under the bones, whoever digs them up keeps them, hee hee hee~"

"Uncle, don't you dare!" My aunt didn't care about her clothes anymore and lunged for the cage.

But my uncle was quicker. He rushed forward in one stride, grabbed my aunt by the hair and yanked her back.

"You married out, you're an outsider now, get lost! You think a Fox land deed and house deed are yours to take?"

"Joe Fox, that's crap! I crawled out of Ma's belly too!"

My aunt raked her nails backward across my uncle's face, gouging five bloody streaks in an instant.

The dog whimpered in terror, but the two of them clawed at the ground like rabid animals, digging pits with their bare hands in the mix of dog piss and rotten mud.

My mother, furious, shoved my father. "You useless lump, what are you standing there for! Go grab it! That's five houses!"

My father gritted his teeth, rolled up his sleeves, and moved to join the brawl.

"I hit something! It's hard!" my uncle cried out, beside himself.