Except that her daughter lived here. Her Ashna, who had never been hers at all; Bram had never let her be. Not that she was special; it was what the world did to all women. Decided what they could claim, and at what cost. If they wanted more, it made them fight for it. In that, Shobi had given the world what it wanted. She had fought.

Except for Ashna.

She sat up on the barstool. The sound of the ocean, still in her ears, picked up force. The ocean inside her was a tidal wave.

How had she allowed this?

All her life she had refused to rely on anyone else to save her. So how had she stood impotent in this?

He had taken her child from her. But she was the one who had let him. And she was the one who had no idea how to get her back.

Shobi hopped off the stool and started pacing Bram’s kitchen. She had no idea when Ashna would be home. It was a bit embarrassing to suddenly find herself waiting up for her daughter. It was a good twenty years too late to play the overprotective mother. She stared at the rice and dal she had cooked for when Ashna did finally get home. It was also a little late to play the nurturing mother, but she didn’t care. She was sitting right here for as long as it took.

After her disastrous trip to the restaurant, she’d needed a bottle of wine. It had been horrifying how run-down Curried Dreams looked. It had to be breaking Ashi’s heart. How did people do this? How did they handle their children’s pain? Especially when they saw how unnecessary it was, how easy to fix. Why couldn’t Ashi see what she was doing?

Shobi had found herself unable to help Mina as she directed the staff and took care of the dinner crowd. The restaurant was full. The way it used to be when Bram ran it. Ashna might be right, she might actually have a chance to turn the place around. Then again, what happened when the popularity of the show passed? Ashna had no love for feeding people. Even when she’d helped Bram, it was always in other parts of the restaurant, never the kitchen.

Not that Shobi blamed her. Bram was an exacting monster in the kitchen. Well, he was that in all things, but his obnoxiousness was considered talent when it came to food. Shobi had once seen Ashna trembling outside the kitchen when Bram was in one of his culinary rages. When Shobi tried to ask her about it, she’d been mortified and had withdrawn deep into herself. In the end Shobi had done the only thing she could think of. Told her that she didn’t have to ever go into a kitchen if she didn’t want to.