I’ve always been a good girl. I’ve been obedient, I studied when Ma wanted me to, I gave up dancing classes because Baba didn’t like the idea, I took up biology and math in class 12 when I really wanted to take up literature … I happily wore what they wanted me to, I didn’t have any affairs and I married the man they chose for me.

Why did this happen to me? WHY ME?

I stuff my fist into my mouth to stop from crying out loud. I don’t want them to hear. I don’t want him to know what he’s done to me. But I want to scream. I want to pull down the curtains and I want to break everything because I am breaking from within, crumbling to pieces.

Suddenly I retch; yellow bile comes rushing up, burning my oesophagus. I puke all over the bed sheet. I wipe my mouth and quickly gather the sheet to prevent anything seeping into the mattress. I throw the sheet on the ground and run to the bathroom—I can feel round two coming up.

I throw up twice more; I realize I haven’t eaten my morning toast today. I check my bedside clock—its 8.30 a.m.—in another half-hour people will start trickling into work. What will Comma think when she doesn’t see me at my desk?

I can’t afford to lose this job, not now. My not turning up for work a day after I was nearly fired will not be taken well.

I know Comma said she hadn’t wanted to fire me—but I don’t want her to think I’m taking her for granted. I have to be honest with her. She has to know I’m not making excuses—I couldn’t possibly make all this up. I send the message.

‘Can’t come in. Terrible morning sickness. Hubby wants divorce. Pls don’t fire me.’

I read the message again. Is it too much information, too sudden, too honest? Perhaps—but I’ve sent it now. I need this job—for me, for my baby. I need to be strong for my baby.

My stomach heaves though nothing else comes up. I have to eat something—I’m beginning to feel really ill with the nausea. But I don’t really want to see anyone. I can’t bear to look at Sid’s face and I know Dragon must be back as well.

I close my eyes and breathe. Better get this over and done with. I change into a salwar-kameez and go into the dining room.

Dragon springs up from the dining chair as if electrified. She simply stands, looking at me. Sid is in the drawing room, talking to someone on the phone.