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)
Parking the car on that thought, I walked over to read the cards attached to the bouquets.
I didn’t know you, but I’m praying for you. May God in heaven bring comfort to those left behind.
Dr. Prasad, you saved my baby’s life along with my own. I’ll never forget you.
You were such a kind and generous family. I’ll always remember our days at the beach together when the kids were younger. I’m sorry we drifted apart as they grew.
That last one was just signed with a single name: Janet. But I made note of it nonetheless before crouching down to read more of the notes pinned to the array of bouquets.
The oldest flowers had begun to curl and wilt…though if they’d been out in the sun for days, they should’ve been in worse condition. Maybe someone was coming around and cleaning up the dead bouquets.
Hey, Dee. Stay strong. Love you to the moon, babes. —Kalindra
A honey-skinned and curvy woman with freckles across her nose, Kalindra hadn’t been at the party, but Diya had pointed out a photo of her in the collection she had on the wall in her old bedroom. They’d been friends in high school, but Kalindra’s move to Wellington for college had gently frayed their friendship until it was now more a case of fond memories than day-to-day reality.
Still, I’d see if I could talk to her, since she would’ve been around when Bobby was younger. I’d also touch base with the three friends of Diya’s who had come to the party; though she’d met them through her work, the friendships not deep like the one she had with Shumi, it was possible she’d mentioned something to them that might help.
Dr. Prasad, thank you, thank you, thank you. You treated me with warmth and dignity and just the most incredible kindness when I needed it most, and you will live forever in my memories. I’m so sorry for what happened to you and your family, and I hope the surviving members manage to come out of this with whole hearts.
There were several other notes in a similar vein, and for most of them, I couldn’t tell to which Dr. Prasad they were addressed. The more specific ones were evenly scattered, which just confirmed that Sarita and Rajesh, whatever their shortcomings as parents, had both been well respected by their patients.
Diya, I only got to spend time with you when you organized my twenty-first, but I thought you were the sweetest person ever. I’m hoping with all my heart that you recover quickly. —Mackenzie
Bobby, fuck, man. I can’t believe it. I know you’re kicking ass up there. —Dan
I began to notice a pattern. While many of the notes referred to the entire family or specifically named Diya, Bobby, Sarita, or Rajesh—either as doctors or by name—I’d found no mention of Shumi so far. Not by name. Only in terms of her relationships to the others.
Bobby, you were a great boss—I’m rooting for your sis and wife.
Diya, I’m praying for you and your sister-in-law.
Sarita & Rajesh, I promise I’ll be there for Diya & Bobby’s wife.
The woman who’d joined endless clubs during high school seemed to have made no real connections in her adult life. It fit with the picture I was building of her relationship with Bobby. Stay-at-home wife. Controlled by her husband. Kept inside the home and not allowed any friendships except with her husband’s family.
Another small thing to add to the pile of evidence against Bobby.
“I thought that was our car on the road.” Tim’s voice, the slap of his flip-flops against his heels having announced his presence before he spoke. “It’s nice, all these flowers, don’t you think? Joseph comes over every afternoon and weeds out the ones that are wilting. Just started doing it on his own. Makes me proud, that boy.”
Grateful the other man had initiated contact, I rose from my crouch. “He comes from kind parents.”
“How’s Diya?” His eyes searched my face in a way that made me wonder if he’d been doing some online searches of his own.
My chest tightened. “She’s fighting.”
“Good, that’s good.” He shifted from foot to foot.
Yeah, Tim knew something.
Keeping my expression tired, just a man in a tough situation, I said, “I’m trying to put together a few things for the funerals in case the police release the remains soon.” Charred remnants of people I’d celebrated with less than a week ago.
The other man stopped fidgeting. “Is there anything we can do to help? Just ask.”
Whatever he’d heard, he remained too much a good guy to hang me out to dry. “I was hoping to get in touch with family and friends,” I said. “I don’t suppose you remember any names? I already have Rajesh’s and Sarita’s hospital colleagues—the ones who have access to the ICU have been by to see Shumi and Diya, and they’ve passed on the wishes of the others.