Ching-Hua had lost a lot of weight, her taut face showing little color, and she coughed from time to time. Nevertheless, she still needed to work, repairing clothing for people: patching the knees of boys' trousers, expanding the waists of growing girls' dresses, or sewing sheets and curtains. There hadn’t been much business to begin with, and after she got ill—or perhaps because of her husband’s imprisonment—less and less work came her way.
The Families of Political Dissidents – Novel Excerpt
