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)
Hearing her while being able to see her made me realize her face was partially paralyzed; that was what had caused the slur I’d taken for intoxication. The haircut, asymmetrical on purpose, was to help minimize the appearance of it when she wasn’t speaking. It worked; I hadn’t noticed at first glance.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Diya said fiercely. “It must be so hard for you being back in the hospital.” Another hug before she drew back and said, “Oh, where are my manners. This is Tavish, my husband.”
“Hi, Violet, nice to meet you in person.”
“Same.” When she smiled, the left curve of her lips tugged slightly down—and I realized she hadn’t had the paralysis in the photo I’d seen in the newspaper.
This was a lingering result of the assault.
Anger stirred within, but I stuffed it deep down. I would never ever mention my suspicions of Sarita and Rajesh to Diya—my wife was barely holding herself together right now, a fragile glass bird who’d shatter with a single new blow.
“You two want me to grab you coffee and snacks from the café?” I asked, figuring they didn’t want me hanging about while they chatted.
Diya beamed at me while tugging Violet toward her hospital bed so they could sit on it side by side, in front of a window that gave them a view of the hospital’s sloping green grounds. “That’d be perfect. You know my order. Violet?”
“An almond milk flat white, one sugar. Thanks.”
With Shumi having been discharged two days earlier, there was no Ajay wandering the halls, but he called me while I was waiting for the coffees. “How’s it going?” I asked. “Shumi doing okay?”
“Fine—except I think she’s going to murder our mum.” A pause. “Oh man, how could I say that?”
I could almost see his mortification. “It’s just words, don’t sweat it.” Life had to go on. “They’re fighting?”
“No, the opposite. Mum is hovering—like she’s trying to make up for all the years in between.” That he saw so clearly was a testament to Ajay’s inherent empathy; it would have been in his best interests not to see, to pretend his elder sister had experienced the same loving childhood as him.
“Shumi’s already told me that she’s moving in with you and Diya wherever you go, until she finds a place of her own. I thought I better give you the heads-up in case, you know, you’d rather she didn’t.” Youthful awkwardness. “I could talk to her…”
I’d been looking forward to having Diya to myself at last, but I couldn’t abandon Shumi. Not when the idea of being stuck in a house with my own mother while I was vulnerable and recovering from injury was my personal nightmare.
Mrs. Kumar might have good intentions, but it was too fucking late. “Tell your sister she’ll be welcome.”
“Thanks, man.”
Grabbing the drinks the barista had just slid over in a little cardboard carry tray, along with the brown paper bags that held the treats I’d picked up for the two women, I went back to the ward, arriving just in time to overhear Violet say, “…never told you, but I did get a couple of weird cards before I was attacked.”
I hesitated outside the curtain the women had pulled around the bed to create a bit more privacy. Diya was in a room with three other patients, each of them in their own little curtained cubicle.
“What do you mean, weird?” my wife asked now.
“They were generic floral cards, but inside someone had written that you weren’t what you seemed, and that I needed to stay away from you for my own good. Same message in different words in both cards.”
Diya sucked in a breath. “Why would someone do that?”
“I figured maybe a competitor. I had several others approach me looking for a partnership, but I turned them down. Honestly, I forgot about them until just last week, when my counselor made me do a deep dive into the events of that entire month.”
“That’s pretty awful,” Diya said, “knowing that someone dislikes me so much.”
“I really think it was a dumb attempt to open up the partnership spot,” Violet reassured her. “I wasn’t going to tell you at all, but I want you to watch your back when you return to work.”
The other woman paused. “My counselor thinks I’m too paranoid these days, but they never caught my attacker. Knowing that person is still out there…it’s part of why I have such a hard time leaving the house. I can’t help thinking that they could be waiting for me around any corner.”
“Oh, Violet, I’m so sorry.”
I went to back off, not wanting to interrupt what seemed to be an emotional moment, but a nurse came by just then and said, “Knock, knock,” at the curtain before peeking inside. “Won’t be long,” she told the women. “Just have to chart your blood pressure.”