Written by Eric Wu from Washington, USA My father’s hands shook, struggling to hold the bouquet of impeccably red roses in full bloom. He hoped that the sharp, thorny flowers could act as a needle and stitch up the hole in his heart. I followed closely behind, holding a transparent turquoise ring neatly tucked into its velvet cushion, ready to initiate the handoff just as we had meticulously perfected the day before. My heart pounded as the plan of my own orchestration had
