Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Forever entwined.
“I think I’ll go talk to Kamal tomorrow,” I said to Ravi, something about the wind chime story disturbing to me. “Since I’m here…and, well, I don’t think I’ll ever ask Diya. It’s going to be hard enough for her to wake up and realize that she might’ve lost her entire family. I don’t want to bring this up.”
A sad nod of understanding. “You can go to his place anytime—he’s home all day. Smokes and goes for walks, but never too far. I’ll go ask Kushma to make up your bed now.” He handed over the key. “Just give it back to me before you go. I live in a wooden house to the left, behind the bananas.”
“Is there running water to the property?”
“Yes, from the tank in the trees. Good you reminded me—I’ll go turn on the flow on that end. Only take half a minute. And don’t worry—I don’t let it sit. Plenty of rain around here, easy to keep it refreshed in case the family decides to visit unexpectedly.
“Dr. Rajesh had me put in a filter,” he added. “So it’s safe to drink, but the doctors always said to boil it anyway. Kushma will also put some bottles of water from the shop in your kitchen, in case you don’t want to bother with boiling and cooling.”
After Ravi left to walk to the tank, I turned and went back to the house, the mango in hand. It felt as if it had gained in weight in the time since Ravi handed it to me, and I suddenly found myself wondering if Ani’s ashes hadn’t been given to water, if she was buried under the tree, her blood and bones part of its veins…
I left the mango on the kitchen counter.
Abruptly aware of how sticky my skin felt, I decided to have a shower in the large bathroom down the hall from my room.
There was no soap stocked inside, but the water was ice-cold and pure, the droplets that fell from the old-fashioned showerhead fat and round. Though I’d shivered when it first fell on me, I found myself lingering, letting the water soothe me, wash away all the pain and stress for a short window of time.
When I finally got out, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my duffel in with me. No towel, no fresh clothes.
And Ravi’s wife was meant to be making up the bed for me.
I opened the door a crack and said, “Hello? Anyone in here?”
Silence, the ripple of a curtain in the distance.
I called out again, just in case, but if the mysterious Kushma was inside the house, she wasn’t answering. Hoping I wasn’t about to scandalize the caretaker’s wife, but loath to put on my sweaty, dusty clothes—oh, how Susanne would’ve laughed at my predicament—I kept an ear open as I walked naked down the hall.
But when I peeked into the bedroom, it was to see the bed neatly made up. On the end sat a stack of towels, beside that a small basket that held soap and other toiletries. She’d clearly been intending to stock up the bathroom for me before realizing it was already occupied.
Grateful for her and Ravi’s help, I used one of the towels to dry off, then hitched it around my hips and walked to fully open one of the larger windows. The air was cool against my body. This, I thought, would be the most comfortable time of the day to hang around outside. Could be Kamal would be happy to have a visitor at this time, but all at once, my bones ached from exhaustion.
It wasn’t about the amount of time that had passed since the fire, but the sheer weight of the stress I’d been under. Tonight at least, I could sleep, free from the threat of Ackerson swooping down on my head—or the media discovering the identity of Diya Prasad’s American fiancé.
My hands squeezed the window ledge.
* * *
—
I’d expected to spend the night tossing and turning despite my tiredness, but I slept for nine straight hours, as if my body just shut down. No dreams. No haunting wind chimes. No fear. Maybe it was the invisible but efficient Kushma’s cooking—she’d sent dinner over with her eldest son, who’d told me to leave the dishes on the porch table outside where I’d eaten.
Those dishes were gone when I walked outside into the comfortable morning air, and when I stepped down to stand on the grass, I could almost feel the thunder of the surf in the distance. I considered walking to it, watching the ocean under the morning light…but it felt like a betrayal to Diya.
“I can’t wait to show you Fiji!” Kisses pressed to my jaw that made me grin. “I’ll be Mrs. Tavish Advani to the whole world by then! We’ll walk hand in hand to the beach. It’s so beautiful, Tavi, better than any Caribbean resort, trust me.”