Chiyo scrambles to her knees, thrown so flat against the tamami she’s a hair shy of a dogeza. “Honored matron, I don’t ask you to care for me for free. I’ll get a job and pay my own way. Don’t force me to leave the house.”

“I am in the business of charity for those who cannot work for themselves. You clearly can.”

“I’ll work, I’ll pay rent, I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t have room for you, Miss Katsura. There are twenty-nine people in this building. Thirty is too many.”

“Don’t separate us,” Chiyo whispers. “Please. I have nothing else.”