“That he was completely debilitated.”

“Anyone would take that to heart.”

“I think he took it more than to heart. I think he took it as a sentence. Something he could never overcome.”

Nirav lowers his brow.

“I told him to forget about the note,” Kavita explains. “I said it wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was that he get better. And he would, in time. I told him everything was going to be all right. He said he knew.” She remembers the look in his eye, distant, resigned. “But now, I think we were talking about different things.” Why, why couldn’t she tell what she was seeing then? “I think he had been weighing his options, and after our conversation, he made his choice.”

Her zigzagged journey along the mess of tacks and string has brought her here. This is the answer to the enormous why. But is this really The Answer? Will she ever really know Sunil’s reasons? She wants to ask him. Hear his beautiful voice. But she can’t. Because he’s gone. Forever. How can he be gone, forever? He has always been there, her whole life. What is life, even, without him? She doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want this life. She wants the one they had, together. Wants another chance to make things right. She knows better now. Knows what to do. Please, dear God, wake her up. Let this be a dream, and let it be over.

Kavita begins to shake. Fault lines cover her like veins. She feels close to breaking.

“People always say once they’ve made up their minds, they seem at peace but that’s bullshit.” The person who sat beside her in the backseat was unrecognizable. He wasn’t her Sunil, her gentle brother. Now she understands why: his face was a portrait of inner war.

“The last time I saw him was when he went to take a nap. I didn’t even get a chance to give him a kiss. Mostly, I remember the back of his head as he went downstairs. That’s it.” A nothing moment.

Nirav wraps his arm around her back. “You loved him more than anyone, Kavita. And he knew that.”

“But it wasn’t enough.”