Free I Hear Them Cry by Shiho Kishimoto

I’ll go to her.”
    “As you wish, ma’am. I’ll bring over some lemon tea.”
    The living room faced the garden and was the size of around twenty tatami mats. I could see Kanako bent over a bed of flowers, trimming them.
    “The hydrangea is lovely,” I called out.
    “Welcome, dear. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you,” she said, turning her attention away from the flowers.
    Although the garden’s overall effect was Japanese, she was into British-style gardening lately.
    “Just when the hydrangea reach their end, the lupines start blooming all at once. I can’t wait.”
    “Orchids go well in the house, don’t they? Back home we have moth orchids we received as a gift around the New Year. They’re still in bloom.”
    “My, that’s a long time.”
    Ms. Sato came out with some lemon tea and cookies. The tea set was a beautiful assortment of old Noritake tableware adorned with pictures of chestnuts and made for exporting overseas.
    “Ms. Sato, why don’t you join us for tea?” Kanako said.
    “No, thank you,” she answered as she carefully arranged the table with her knobby hands, which seemed at odds with the beautiful objects. “I still have work to do.”
    The aroma of the lemon filled the air, but it didn’t play any role in quieting my mind. The piping-hot liquid went down my throat and spread its heat steadily, warming my chest. When I put down the cup, I took a deep breath.
    “Mother, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”
    Registering my slightly tense expression, Kanako froze, held her cup to her lips and stared at me suspiciously.
    “What is it?” she said, her voice stiffened with defiance.
    “Do you know the nature of the relationship between Shigeki-san and Ms. Reika Terashima?”
    Kanako let down her guard instantly and smiled. “You shouldn’t be concerned about that,” she said calmly, returning her cup to the table.
    I wondered whether I’d misheard her. My mind was whirling, attempting to process Kanako’s answer, but cognitive dissonance stood in the way, sabotaging my effort to parse her words. The implication was “There is something to worry about.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “What I mean is that Shigeki chose you as his wife. You’re the one he needs.”
    “So what you’re saying,” I said with a quivering voice, “is I shouldn’t be concerned that he has a mistress?”
    I was shaky, no doubt. But I remained firm, facing her tenaciously and doggedly holding out for an answer. Kanako slowly brought her cup of tea to her lips.
    (Please say something!)
    “Shigeki and Reika have been acquaintances since Shigeki began working,” Kanako began. “I have no idea when they turned out to have the relationship they’re having right now—whatever kind that may be, mind you. But the fact is that Shigeki couldn’t care less about her really.”
    With her slender fingers, Kanako traced the crystal beads of her necklace. Her explanation didn’t do anything to comfort me. She had more or less just confirmed that Reika was Shigeki’s mistress.
    “I have always thought that marriage was about promising your love to just one person for a lifetime,” I said. “It’s simply beyond me that a person could fail to keep such a promise, something so basic, so ordinary at heart.”
    In Kanako’s eyes, if this was the kind of thing I wasn’t supposed to be concerned about, then what was? Where was her moral compass?
    As if on cue, Shigeki’s son Raiki entered with Ms. Sato. He was the son Shigeki had had with Sophie, the girl who had come to Japan from the Philippines for work. Wearing the standard-issue uniform of a private kindergarten, Raiki looked quite the little gentleman, with his short-sleeve white shirt and bow tie.
    “I’m home,” he said in a small voice, perhaps in deference to me.
    “Welcome back,” Kanako said, looking at him briefly before returning her gaze to the garden.
    “Raiki, you must be hungry,” I said. “Here, have a cookie.”
    Prior