She seemed to think it over, and then wordlessly led him out on to the balcony. Eram knew that the two of them weren’t best bros or anything, but he had seen enough of her to know that the Yam was never this quiet for even this long.

Maybe she’s having a bad day, guessed Eram. Lots of those going around.

He was about to lower himself into a wicker chair when the Yam finally came to life.

‘No, not that one,’ she spoke with an edge to her voice. ‘You can’t have that one.’

Eram looked at the identical chair next to it. ‘Okay, sure. How about this one? Or, it’s cool, I can just stand.’

‘You can have that one. That’s Sunderajan’s snooze chair, but he’s not using it right now, so. What you wanna talk about?’

Now that he was here, Eram had trouble explaining what was on his mind. It had been so clear to him last night. It didn’t help that the Yam was standing over him with her arms crossed and not looking friendly at all. ‘It’s hard to put into words. But, basically, I need to . . . I mean, I want to do something. For her.’

He told her about his plans. To revisit all the places that Gehna had hung out at. To eat and to drink and to do all the things she had loved to. To meet anyone who had ever known her and make them tell him their Gehna stories. He wanted to know if Yamini would like to do this with him.

‘Stories.’ The Yam shook her head. ‘Here’s a story for you. Once upon a time there was a girl. She was beautiful and clever and kind, and she was my best friend. One day, for no reason . . . for no fucking reason . . . she died alone in a hospital bed. And then this asshole of a boy she loved, who claimed to love her, disappeared. He wasn’t there when they covered her lifeless body up with a sheet, he wasn’t there when they burned her to ashes, he just . . . wasn’t there. Poof. Disappeared. Like a ghost. Hey, you know what would be a good name for this boy who disappeared?’ The Yam stared at Eram until he met her eyes. ‘Casper.’

Eram didn’t say anything. Three months ago it had felt like the best part of him had died along with Gehna in that hospital. He hadn’t cried, because dead men don’t do that. He hadn’t kept it together, because dead men don’t do that either. He had just gone away.

The Yam went into her room and returned a minute later with an unopened bottle of Smirnoff vodka. She plopped it down on Eram’s lap. ‘She’s dead, yo. Ain’t no stories gonna change that. You and I had one thing in common and now we have zero things. You can stay out here, deal with your shit and then leave. We’re done.’