Bing withdrew his arm, turned around and tucked his head under the quilt, as if his dream was disturbed.
Unlike the elder boy who stood waiting between the door and the bed, the little boy climbed up to bed and acted as a baby looking for milk. This always delighted Mei.
With the door left half open, a beam of darkish light cut a diagonal line across the bed. To avoid letting the boys see Bing’s scary face, Mei pulled herself out of bed. But it was too late.