And yet instead of going to the Anchorage, tonight Ashna was headed to a hotel where a promise waited for her. A promise that she could be strong.

After walking God knows how many miles to the hotel where she had dropped him off hours . . . years . . . ago, she stopped outside the huge plate-glass doors. She had no idea what his room number was. She didn’t have his phone number.

She was about to turn around, because collapsing outside a Ritz-Carlton was a little too over-the-top for her, even with the current drama in her life.

“Ms. Raje!”

When was the last time she’d been this relieved to see someone?

A question best left unanswered.

“George! Hi.”

The older man gave her a kind smile. He was still in his uniform. “Are you here to see Mr. Silva?”

She nodded, hoping he couldn’t tell she’d been crying.

He was wearing sunglasses, and it hid what was in his eyes, which felt like such a kindness. The idea of the world seeing her, anyone seeing her right now, felt violating.

Except one person, apparently, because she was willing to break into his hotel room.

“Can you tell me his room number, please?”

He didn’t laugh at her or seem suspicious. His face remained entirely without judgment.

“Twenty-one hundred,” he said quietly. If he was afraid he’d get in trouble, he didn’t show it.

Ashna would fight tooth and nail to make sure he wouldn’t get in trouble.

“Thanks, George. Can you please . . . um . . . not let him know I’m here? It’s . . .”

“It’s a surprise. Mr. Silva is a very lucky man.” He held up a key card. “If you follow me, I’ll get you all set with the elevator.” He went into the hotel lobby and she followed him, trying to make up for her bedraggled state with poise. Thank you, Mina Kaki, for teaching me that.

They made their way to a bank of elevators under a row of what had to be the brightest chandeliers Ashna had ever seen. Her grandmother would be horrified at their brightness. The chandeliers at the Anchorage and at Sagar Mahal were always adjusted just so.

When the elevator opened, George followed her in, swiped the card, and then stepped out.

“George.” Ashna stopped him and gave him a quick hug, then pulled awkwardly back into the elevator. “Thank you.”

His smile was encouraging. “It’s going to be all right, Ms. Raje.”

It sure didn’t feel like that, but she hoped he was right.

It was one of those elevators that deposited Ashna directly into a lobby with a single wide ornate door. The urge to turn around warred violently with the need to see him.

She got out of the elevator and walked to the door.

And knocked.

And waited and waited and waited.

Then turned around and went back to the elevator.

A door opened behind her.

“Ash.”