Ashna had a good mind to let her think she was, indeed, the swooning sort. “I didn’t swoon. The camera just makes it look that way. I was caught by surprise.”

“Right. Surprise at how stunning a man can be, by all reports.” Her mother chuckled, as though she had finally found her absconding sense of humor. So what if it had taken her daughter’s public humiliation for her to find it.

Ashna lined the perfectly folded rolls neatly on the counter, ready for tomorrow’s fifty tables, because at least the video seemed to be bringing in customers. “It had more to do with the fact that the man did not look like someone who could help me win. It’s about winning. Isn’t that what you’ve always taught me?”

Her mother made a scoffing sound, so much more within the Shobi lexicon than her previous good-natured chuckle. “Well, see, it’s always about the damn restaurant. But you’re right; that video clip is going to make sure that you don’t get voted off. So it might help you win after all.”

“I can win because of my cooking. It is possible, you know.” It was actually not possible at all. How impossible it was reared its monstrous head inside Ashna.

Shobi’s response was to twist this in the most infuriating way possible. “I’m not saying you can’t. All I’m saying is that you should take a moment to explore why you’re doing this.” A pause that harkened the coming of another swift and brutal kick to the gut. “Why do you repeatedly let the restaurant be a punitive place for you?”

Sometimes Ashna just hated Shobi. But she hated herself more for answering the phone.

Awkward silence stretched between them. Not that they could have a conversation without those. Ashna shoved the perfectly folded rolls out of alignment, then adjusted them.

Finally, Shobi cleared her throat. “Why do we always end up here, Ashna?”

Ashna laughed.

Shobi cleared her throat, another ominous sign for what was coming. “Why don’t we try something different. What are you doing with the restaurant when you shoot? Do you trust the people you’ve hired?”

A double punch this time. Baba’s employees had robbed him clean after his death and it had been Ashna’s fault for leaving them to do it.

“I was going to ask if you maybe needed help with it? You won’t come to India, and it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other . . .”

Ashna started pacing. Had Shobi just asked her if she needed help?