In front of the two young women, the altar gleamed with countless small golden flames, which cast sparkling light over the tangyuan, the shining wooden plaques, and the waxy white lotus petals, bathing everything in a thin film of gold. The polished dark wood of the plaques glimmered like dark glass, making the names stand out even more.
Abrial had never celebrated a traditional holiday back in her parents' house. After all, they'd done every single they could to separate her from the outside world. The only "holiday" they'd celebrated was her birthday, and that was more of a solemn and awkward dinner than a celebration. They'd never even taught her about ancestor worship, though maybe that was because they just didn't believe in it. That meant that Abrial didn't really know what to do right now. She just watched Finley and followed everything she did.
