Priya opened her eyes and checked the clock. It was 11:23 on Tuesday morning. Siva would finish his operation in an hour and call her, before seeing his next patient. She got out of bed and turned to face it.

First she pulled the sheets and quilt up to the pillows, folding the edge of the sheet back over the top of the quilt. She ran her hand over the body of the bed, smoothening out the wrinkles. It was cool against her palm. The quilt was neatly parallel to the top sheet that was neatly parallel to the bottom sheet. Every part of the bed found its solace in perfect alignment. She bent down and tucked the sides of the sheets under the mattress, creating a tight seal around it.

The bed was properly made. Rajan would be proud. Dhara would have laughed at this daily activity and forced her to stop. Dhara would have forced her to live. She pulled the top of the sheets back a little, careful not to disturb them, and slowly slipped back into bed.

•

Nala sat quietly, perched on the edge. She winced as she adjusted her back and tried to balance on the bed without pushing her daughter. Priya didn’t move or acknowledge her presence. The curtains were drawn. The air was old and hung watchfully in the room. Nala wanted to open a window and let the afternoon light in.

‘I brought you something,’ she said tentatively. ‘I thought you might need it.’ She opened the plastic bag on her lap and pulled out the soft net. She held it up, unfurling it a little. Priya finally opened her eyes.

‘It’s silly, I know, but when we left home, I couldn’t bear to leave it behind. It reminded me of you both.’ She placed the muslin gently over her daughter. Priya sat up slowly and fingered the net.

‘Your father used to sew the tears.’ They looked like the thin scars made by barbed wire when it is dragged over a body. Skin pinched elegantly into permanent ridges.

‘I know,’ Priya replied. Her face had changed over the last few months, the patina recognisable to all who had suffered. She held the muslin up.

‘It smells old,’ Priya whispered.

‘It is old,’ Nala shrugged with a smile.

‘I always knew you brought everything from Colombo,’ she said. It was an old accusation, said without blame.

‘No,’ Nala replied. ‘I left some important things behind. Appa says it’s time to tell Smrithi.’

Her daughter nodded and slumped back holding the muslin to her chest. Nala walked around the bed to the other side and lay down. Priya moved towards her and into her waiting arms.

CHAPTER 22

Food sat in Nala’s kitchen, untouched. No one wanted to eat after she and Rajan talked to Smrithi. Priya and Siva were there too, but on Rajan’s instruction, Nala spoke first.