'Tell her you're sorry,' Rose says.
For a long moment, a moment subdivided by the flickering of the candles, Rafferty isn't sure he can say it. Then he whispers, 'I'm sorry.'
Rose's eyes never leave his. 'Tell her you don't blame her for the karma that trapped her, that made her do such terrible things. Tell her you know she had light inside her. Tell her you wish her spirit well.'
Rafferty gets through it somehow. When he says he knows she had light inside her, he realizes he is crying.
'Put out your hands,' Rose says. 'Over the bowl.'
He does as he's told, palms up, and she slowly pours the water over them. She puts down the empty bag, picks up the small Buddha, and holds it over her heart. She closes her eyes. 'Now tell her she's free.'
In the hallway outside, Mrs. Pongsiri steps from the elevator and pauses at the open doors. She sees the shoes beside the door, the path of light, the two people kneeling at the end of it, the water being poured. Then the man, her neighbor Mr. Rafferty, says something, and at the same time the candles flicker as though a window has been opened, and something cold blows against-no, through-Mrs. Pongsiri. She takes a step back, feeling the skin pucker on her arms.
At the end of the path of light, the man and the woman bend toward each other until their foreheads touch. Their eyes are closed.
