Mei, with her four-year-old son on her back, one hand holding an umbrella, and the other tightly holding her eleven-year-old son’s wrist, stood among the shadows of people coming and going. The umbrella wasn’t big enough to fully cover three bodies. Mei chose to wait at a corner beside the school gate. Hoping her husband would drive them home as he had agreed, Mei watched the people going away but focused on the coming vehicles. She waited anxiously. He was late, and it was her birthday.