“Uncle Tim?” Shen doesn’t seem to believe it. “But…why? He wants nothing to do with the guardians. He broke ties with us when we refused to move the temple out of Chinatown.”

“Your Uncle Timothy has always been ambitious,” Mrs. Sui says, eyes wide. “As the eldest son, he expected to be the one chosen as the next head priest. Sadly, it would not surprise me to see him take matters into his own hands.”

“We should have seen it,” Mrs. Wang says, remorseful. “But there are not many of us left now.”

“Delia…Delia smuggled a Molotov cocktail in,” I try to explain, struggling with the tears that are coming up again. “We destroyed the Wall of Wishes. That should have weakened them…right? The firefighters will be coming soon?” I’m talking now more to comfort myself than to find the answers. I need to know that help is coming.

“Since I’m not able to get a message out of this place, then I doubt anyone will be able to physically enter unless the entirety of the mall crashes down and takes us with it,” Shu-Ling says. She turns to Delia and then bows, bending fully at the waist, rising up after to regard the younger woman with great sincerity. No longer the flippant woman I initially met. “I am sorry I did not listen to your warnings. I failed in my duty to protect you and to protect the people in Chinatown.”

Delia looks taken aback at this, before finding the careful response. “They’re planning something, that’s all I know. I overheard them talking about it in the room. You’ll have to stop them, whatever it is.”

Shu-Ling’s expression turns grim. “I suspect they want to finish what the God of Good Deeds started all those years ago. To rip open the barrier between worlds. For there to be hell on earth.”

“We should go and see what they want, then.” Shu-Ling sighs. She kneels before Mrs. Sui and takes her hands. “姑婆, you’ll stay here until it’s safe?”

Mrs. Sui pats her arm and says sadly: “戇囡仔…戇囡仔…姑婆 is too old and weak to help you….” Even with my poor Taiwanese, I understand what it means. Foolish child.

“What you asked us to finish for your earlier is on the table.” Mrs. Wang points to the long table in the middle of the room with a shaky hand.

“Thank you, Auntie.” Shen helps her back to her walker, where she sits down heavily, sighing as well.

“Ruby, roll up the statue for me,” Mrs. Sui instructs. “Be careful not to touch it with your bare hands. If there is nothing else we can do, we can at least clean this foul thing up.”

I follow her directions, kneeling down to fold the cloth over the statue before rolling it up back into a bundle again.

“Can you help them into the temple?” Shu-Ling directs me while she bends over the table with Shen, looking over whatever the Aunties prepared for them. I push Mrs. Sui inside to where the statues of the gods still sit. But this time, the curtain along the other wall has been fully pulled open, and I gape at the marvelous art that was hidden behind it.

The entirety of the wall is covered with a mural. I recognize Mazu, the Goddess of the Sea, revered in Taiwan. She wears the equivalent of the crown of an empress, and her robes are red, flowing into the water and turning into rippling waves behind her. Beside her are her disciples, the One Who Sees a Thousand Miles and the One Who Hears the Wind, each with comically large features of their special abilities—all painted in a very familiar art style. This is Shen’s work.

Mrs. Sui turns toward the wall and bows reverently. “Even though we are followers of the guardians, they are her generals. It is Mazu’s divine will that protected us from Taiwan all the way to Canada. She still watches over all of us. You’ll see. Believe in her.”

I still feel that nagging doubt that I experienced before. The question that I asked Shu-Ling: What if I don’t believe?

“You’ll stay here with 姑婆 and Mrs. Wang,” Shen tells me as he enters the room with Mrs. Wang, pulling over a padded chair for her to sit on. “It’s safer here.”

“What do you mean?” I challenge him. “I’m going with you. My family’s down there.”

Shen shakes his head, opening his mouth to argue some more, but Shu-Ling appears behind him.

“She’s coming,” she says, handing him what looks to be a sling bag and one for me as well. “We need all the hands we have.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” I tell him, hoping I sound more confident than I feel. He looks down at me intently, like he wants to say something else, but then he blinks and the moment is lost.

“Just…be careful.” He finally turns and walks back to the main room, with me following. The Aunties call out worried goodbyes as Shu-Ling shuts the doors. She bites her finger open and then draws a symbol on the door with her blood, between the two portraits of the gods. The blood seems to glow and then disappear into the wood. Blood, again. Similar to the ritual that I witnessed before.

“Blood is life,” Shu-Ling tells me, as if she can sense my revulsion. “It’s a wonder in itself that we are able to live at all, because it is so easy for us to die.”

Is this one of her quotes of “wisdom” that she got from a movie? Or something she learned from the gods?

Shen brings over a green robe, which she shrugs on, then Shu-Ling ties her hair into a tight ponytail. She fastens the same items that she used from previous rituals onto her belt. The sword. The bell. The whip.

Shen pulls out a stack of talismans and tells me, “You have a matching set in your pack. These react to yin energy.”

He holds up one stack, secured with a green rubber band. “The green set stuns spirits. The blue set blows up whichever part of them you put them on.”

I check in my pack and pull them out, holding each of them in turn to confirm. “Stun. Explode.” He nods. Even though we have these talismans for our use, it still feels inadequate. Not knowing what to expect. Not knowing what is out there waiting for us.

“Delia,” Shu-Ling calls. The ghostly girl is currently leaning against the wall. “See if there is a way out. Anywhere.” Delia nods and then disappears through the security screen.

“A way out…” Shen begins to pace, circling around the table. “There has to be a way we can get the message through.” Shu-Ling stands still, massaging her forehead like that will conjure up an answer.

There’s another rumble. This time even more violent. Hard enough that I stumble and have to catch myself against the wall.

“He found a third sacrifice.” Shu-Ling’s eyes snap open. She turns to the door of the temple. “I’m going to do this.” Whatever choice she is making, it looks like a difficult one.

“Are you sure?” Shen asks, hesitant, as she raises her arms. “This will leave the temple unprotected.”

“If he truly found a way to open the door, the temple is the least of our worries!” she snaps at him, then bites her other finger too. The pictures of the door gods stare at her balefully. She touches the door gods with her fingers at the same time, leaving a smear of blood on each of their foreheads.

The speaker crackles again.

“You’re about to miss the show.” It’s Mrs. Tsai this time, her voice high and mocking. “I promise you, it will be spectacular.”

The drawings of the door gods begin to blur—then to my amazement, they step off of the wall, lengthening before my eyes. They’re thin, just like the paper they emerged from. Their features flat. They move in a strange fashion, shuffling forward, having to move their bodies in exaggerated ways due to their 2D nature. They swing their arms almost comically, their weapons raised in their “hands.”

“Let’s go,” Shu-Ling says, striding toward the door, the paper soldiers following her in their lumbering fashion. Shen is behind them, and I’m the one who brings up the rear. Afraid of what we will find waiting for us in the mall.

The dim red light continues to flash, slow and steady, giving the already worn-down mall a sinister air. I hear music in the distance, coming from somewhere downstairs, in the direction of the lobby. Loud popping, like firecrackers being lit. A celebration.

We approach the railing and peer down at what lies below. From this perspective, I can see an audience, sitting in the folding chairs before the empty stage. With shock, I spot my parents in the third row. Those same, eerie placid smiles plastered on their faces. Denny sits beside them too, more still than my brother has ever been in his life. Fully controlled by whatever evil force it is that has them all in its grasp.

The sound of the firecrackers stops, replaced by the sound of drums, beating slow and steady. When we arrive at the base of the stairs, that’s when I see the other figures lurking in the shadows. Small shapes peeking around the pillars. Silhouettes of all heights and shapes, standing there, watchful, farther into the mall. Every part of me screams, knowing that they are not among the living.

Finally, a figure emerges from that crowd, finding her way onto the stage, followed by ten young girls.

“Our honored guests!” Mrs. Tsai calls out toward us, arms open in greeting, while the children form a long line. They have the same blank, empty expressions. Staring out toward the audience, seeing nothing. I recognize Tina among them, and I take a big, involuntary step toward her, but Shen pulls me back. He shakes his head beside me, warning me to be careful.

Shu-Ling approaches the stage, standing there under the lights, looking up at Mrs. Tsai without fear.

“Why are you doing this?” Shu-Ling asks. “You’re involving children. The innocent. They don’t know what they’re asking for.”

“Two years ago, my daughter made a selfish decision that broke our family apart. She was going to follow Delia to god knows where,” Mrs. Tsai says coldly. “But then she changed her mind. We thought she finally came to her senses, started following our recommendations….”

That’s when her voice breaks, with the memory. “We were so happy…returning from Europe after Hope won that competition. Then the God of Good Deeds came to claim his prize. We were like puppets, under his control. He made us…watch as my daughter picked up the gun and shot her brother, her father, then turned the gun on me. He laughed and said we deserved it.”

The competition. The murder-suicide. Not only a headline, but a living, breathing example standing before us. Except I’m not sure if Mrs. Tsai is fully alive anymore.

“If I remember correctly,” Shu-Ling says with barely suppressed fury, “my parents came in and saved your life as well as your daughter’s life. You should at least be grateful you’re still alive. Not all of his victims were so lucky.”

“Lucky?” Mrs. Tsai’s face contorts, expression turning feral. “Your guardians came too late! My daughter should have been the one who died. Not my son. Not my husband. They’re the innocent ones, but the guardians couldn’t bring them back….”

“Your daughter may have made the wish, but did you ever consider that you may have pushed her to make that desperate choice? That you might be part of the problem?” Shu-Ling doesn’t flinch from the woman’s accusations. “Demons are drawn to families with the most potential for suffering. All of that rage, despair, sorrow…it tastes like candy to them.”

“You don’t know anything about my family!” Mrs. Tsai strides forward, hands clenched into fists at her sides, and spits in Shu-Ling’s face. “What does Hope know about suffering? We gave her everything.”

Shu-Ling reaches up and wipes the glob of spit running down her cheek, unaffected by Mrs. Tsai’s anger.

“I can only help those who are willing to accept my help,” she says, voice steady. “If you are unwilling to see reason, then there’s nothing else I can do.”

“All of you girls are the same. Ungrateful, foolish…” Mrs. Tsai raises her arm, about to hit her.

“Now…now…let’s talk about this.” The curtain at the back of the stage parts, and Mr. Lee steps out. He’s dressed in a robe just like Shu-Ling’s. Except his is a deep crimson. He holds a large gold bell in his hand, face stretching into a wide grin. “Sorry I’m late.”