She knew these gods were just different forms of the one, formless divine, but found herself reverting to stories from her childhood: stories her father told her about a time when gods walked the earth and heard the prayers of the devout.

She was devout. She prayed and prayed every day—for courage and for forgiveness. Please God, she asked, help Smrithi understand, make her forgive me, keep her safe. Please God, she begged, help me finish the path I started. Help me do my duty. I have chosen my dharma, she said.

She gently placed the child down on her bed. She kissed her on the lips and froze when the little girl stirred but didn’t open her eyes. She lay next to her, careful not to wake her. I have chosen my dharma, and it is mine, not Smrithi’s, she repeated and closed her eyes again.

•

The next day Dhara drove Smrithi and her family to the airport. Prashanth tried to make small talk about the traffic, cricket, the weather; anything to fill the silence and sadness between them.

Finally, Smrithi spoke. ‘I don’t want to leave you here, mami.’

‘I live here, mahal. This is my home. Now it’s time for you to return to yours.’

‘I just wish … I just wish we had more time,’ Smrithi replied, echoing Dhara’s earlier words. ‘I can ask for more projects in Asia, or even look for work in Sri Lanka.’

‘No, Smrithi. We’ve talked about this before—and you have a child now. You have a responsibility to keep her safe; to do what’s best for her. This ceasefire won’t last, it never does. When the fighting starts—well, this just isn’t the place for you.’ She didn’t know how else to explain it to her.

‘If it’s too dangerous for me, then it’s too dangerous for you, mami,’ Smrithi said softly.

‘This is my home,’ Dhara repeated. ‘I have a duty to be here. You have a duty to your daughter; to love her and give her the kind of life she couldn’t have here. We’ll see each other again.’ She wiped the tears from her own face with the back of her hand. She couldn’t look Smrithi in the eyes.

‘Perhaps I’ll find a way to come to London. I’d like to see this Primrose Hill you always talk about. I’m glad we had this time together, though.’ She pulled the car into the drop-off lane and turned off the engine.

While Prashanth assembled the bags onto a trolley, Dhara held the baby one last time. Pressing her face to the baby, she noisily kissed her cheeks, her hair, and her hands. It made the little girl laugh, so she kissed them all over again, laughing with her, and finally crying. She gave the child to Prashanth and held Smrithi for a long moment.