“Look, Bhaiya, what I found—” She holds out the princess, remembering only belatedly that her father may not approve, but thankfully he’s busy pulling out of the parking lot. Her brother, too, ignores her offering, giving no indication that he’s even heard her.

“Are you still not well, Bhaiya?” Her fears for him, from the morning, return.

“No, he’s not well.” It’s her father who replies. “He will go straight to his room when we get home.”

On his face is a forbidding expression she’s never seen before. There’s none of the concern he’d run up the stairs with, when she’d called him to her brother’s side that morning.

Something has changed, she senses. It’s not a foreboding she can give words to, it’s more an impression that some fire has passed through the world she knows, and everything—the playground, Abba, Bhaiya, perhaps even herself—has been melted and transformed into something dark and strange. She hides away the princess doll under her books in her backpack.

27

Leigh arrives at four o’clock, hours earlier than expected.

Tahera buzzes her up, looking in on Seema to announce her untimely arrival. Tahera appears frazzled, her face shiny with sweat from the heat and steam in the kitchen, her hair plastered to her head. She then retreats to the kitchen, picking up her hijab on the way.

Seema is herself surprised. What could Leigh want? Seema pictures a scene where Leigh races up the stairs and sweeps her into her arms to kiss her, while her mother and sister watch openmouthed. The prospect is both unnerving and exhilarating.

In the early days of their relationship, Leigh often acted in impulsive, unpredictable ways: turning up at Seema’s office with takeout from their favorite Burmese restaurant, slipping into Seema’s apartment to light candles for when they later returned, kidnapping Seema for a day trip to a spa. But lately there have been few such incidents, which Seema is thankful for—Leigh’s spontaneity can be exhausting, and the stunt with the candles was dangerous—though Seema also misses the excitement.

Today Leigh arrives empty-handed. “Don’t mind me,” she tells Nafeesa who has hurriedly washed her hands and come out of the kitchen to greet her. “I knew you’d be busy, I thought I’d take Seema off your hands, perhaps go for a walk?”

Nafeesa hesitates, looking back to Tahera in the kitchen for guidance.

“Ammi, I’m not in labor, don’t worry,” Seema says. “I’m not going to have a baby in the next hour—even the contractions from the morning have stopped. I could use some fresh air, and Leigh will be with me if I need help.”

“What about your backache?”

“I took something for it. It seems to be working.”

Nafeesa gives in. Will they drink tea before they leave? It will be ready by the time Seema has changed.