“I’ll not allow you to set foot outside the house until you tell me you won’t see this boy anymore.”

“He is a friend and I will see him.”

“Look at your sisters. Haven’t we found them good matches? Nimita and Girishji are so happy, and Mohini and Anoop—”

“Don’t even mention Anoop. You don’t know what he did to Mohini. He’s not the son-in-law you think he is.”

“What are you blathering about?”

“You think Mohini is back because she missed us and Anoop was nice to send her back! It’s not true. She came without telling him. He hit her, Mummy, more than once, and so hard one time that she had to go to the hospital. She had to run away.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not a liar. Ask Mohini.”

Mummy’s face turned as pale as a lump of butter. She grabbed the edge of the divan. “Call her.”

I opened the bedroom door.

“Mohini, is this . . . is this true?” Mummy could barely get the words out.

Mohini nodded.

Mummy collapsed on the divan. “He hit you? Where?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine now.”

Tears rolled down Mummy’s face as she held Mohini in her arms like she would never let her go.

After that Mummy didn’t ask me about Neel. Her eyes bore the pain she felt for Mohini.

That night Mummy and Pappa talked late into the night. Even though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, their voices flowed smoothly, and before long I fell asleep.

The next morning Pappa and I went to the Hanging Gardens for a walk. The entrance to the park was quiet, since we’d arrived earlier than the food vendors.

“Come, sit here,” Pappa said, sitting on a bench. The air was scented with the ocean, the earth, and the fragrance of cannonball flowers. New leaves on the monkey topiary had burst forth, changing its shape. Everything was fresh, delicate, boundless.

A class of seven-year-olds passed by with their teacher. The girls wore white dresses with red belts, and the boys wore white shirts, khaki shorts, and red ties. “I can still picture you like this,” sighed Pappa, pointing to the children.

I put my hand on his.

“Did Mummy talk to you last night?”

“Yes.”

“I shouldn’t have blurted out about Anoop.”

“Sooner or later we had to tell Mummy.”

Pappa always had a faraway look when he was deep in thought.

I dug my heels into the moist, red soil. “There is something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

I summoned up my courage. “I want to tell you about someone.”

“Then tell me.”

I told him about Neel. He listened intently to all I had to say. I had no idea how he felt about it. Finally, when I told him that Neel was Sarina’s cousin, he seemed to relax a bit.