Excerpt from The Silence that Binds Us by Joanna Ho, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

My mom directed her praise to Uncle and Auntie Wu."

"She stays up so late to study, sometimes we worry about her," said Auntie Wu, shaking her head. "I say to her, 'Go to sleep or you will ruin your eyes.' But she just keeps working."

"Studying hard is a good thing."

"I tell her to relax a little. An A-minus never killed anyone!" Uncle Wu laughed and looked at my dad. "If I'd ever brought home an A-minus, my mom would have thrown me a party."

"You couldn't have afforded the bribe to get an A-minus. You spent more time in the principal's office than in class," my dad retorted. They looked at each other and laughed harder, past memories filling the space between their eyes.

Uncle Wu and dad grew up together in San Francisco's Chinatown. When Uncle Wu came over, they slipped in and out between Cantonese and English—amphibians of language comfortable in both habitats. I loved seeing my dad morph into his teenage self: the swagger, the laughter, the slang all came back when Uncle Wu was around.

"What would Joe think of us now, all cleaned up? With kids?" Uncle Wu said while slurping up a bite of noodles. "He wouldn't believe it."

"He'd love it." My dad's smile drooped as he looked toward the living room, where a faded picture of Uncle Joe sat on a bookshelf. "This is all because of him."

"Ai-yah, you were such troublemakers," said my mom, tilting the subject back toward humor with her mock exasperation. "I'm glad I met you after your Chinatown days."

She started scooping more noodles and soup into our bowls. I shook my head a little and croaked, "I'm good, Ma. I'm full."

"Full? You barely ate, Maybelline." My name was my mom's idea. When she was a young graduate, fresh out of Taiwan's top university, she saw a commercial for Maybelline makeup products that sang, "Maybe it's Maybelline." She thought it sounded beautiful and refined, everything she hoped her future daughter would become.

She's the only one who actually calls me by my full name.

My mom tried to sound chipper in front of our guests, but chipper on my mom is like a fake tan on a Minnesotan in winter. As she ladled soup and meat into my bowl, she said, "I thought niú ròu miàn was your favorite." Her eyes flashed a silent warning: Don't embarrass me.

I really was stuffed but gave up protesting. It's just safer to keep my mouth shut. Every time I retreat into my cave of silence, I spruce the place up. At this point, I've basically decorated myself a room complete with Pocky, books, a couple leafy plants, and a bed. I'm comfortable here.

As everyone tucked into beef noodle soup, round two, my mom looked up like she'd just thought of something, though I got the sense she'd been waiting for this moment all day. She said, "Danny, tell everyone the news!"

Auntie Wu sat up. "Wasn't today the day that—"

Danny's eyes widened, and I glimpsed a flash of something drowning behind them. He choked. "Not now, Ma."

"Now is a perfect time! We're like family here."

Danny stared for a long second at his noodle bowl, then rearranged his face so quickly that no one else noticed. He said, "I got into Princeton." He smiled and showed the high dimple on his right cheek—it always looked as if someone had pinned it out of place.

Congratulations burst around the table, and someone asked, "Did you hear from Stanford yet?" Danny shook his head. He kept smiling, but his dimple faded. He looked lost as he disappeared beneath best wishes and well-intentioned questions.

I watched him closely and frowned. Something was wrong. I tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn't look at me. He knew I was trying to telegraph a million questions to his brain.

"We have some exciting news to share too," said Auntie Wu, looking at her daughter. Celeste gave her mom a look that said, Shut up, Mom, and shook her head faintly. Auntie Wu kept talking. "Celeste was accepted into a summer internship program at Google! It is supposed to be for graduating seniors, but she got in even though she'll only be a junior next year."

Excerpted from The Silence that Binds Us by Joanna Ho. Copyright © 2022 by Joanna Ho. Excerpted by permission of HarperTeen. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.