Fiona has lived in Britain for over a decade. She knows how to navigate racism, bad weather, and overpriced rent. What she doesn't know is how to throw a Chinese New Year that actually feels like one.

When 15-year-old Kailin arrives for the half terms—her first Chinese New Year away from China—Fiona is determined to get it right. The dumplings. The red envelopes. The whole performance of home. But somewhere between the hotel that looks nothing like its photos and a London that no longer feels like hers, something starts to slip. First her composure. Then her pride. Then, piece by piece, her face.

In Winter We Celebrate Spring is a domestic horror laced with dark comedy—a Shirley Jackson-esque story about the quiet violence of trying to belong. No ghosts. No slashers. Just the weight of all the days you forgot to grieve, pressing down until something breaks.

For anyone who has ever tried to recreate a home that no longer exists.