Chapter Two: The Blank Book of Vows

A fountain pen she had never seen lay beside it. She ignored it and used her own pencil to write in a corner: Zhou Xubai remembers to buy milk tomorrow morning. The words sank into the paper and vanished. She waited ten minutes. No thunder, no broken mirrors, no one disappearing from memory. Embarrassed by her fear, she locked the book away again. Two bottles of milk stood in the kitchen the next morning. “Why two?” she asked. Xubai was frying eggs. “We always buy two. Low-fat for you, whole milk for me.” “You're lactose intolerant.” “Since when?” His ease frightened her. Inside the refrigerator, three empty whole-milk bottles stood in a neat line, each labeled for recycling. The earliest date was a month old.