Many years later, when Naina had told him she was not taking the MCATs or going to medical school, the expression on his face had brought her the kind of indescribable satisfaction she’d never until that day experienced. The man who had toyed with her helplessness for sport her whole life had looked entirely helpless. It had been a day she’d been waiting for since what she had labeled the Basketball Incident.

The night her father had refused to pay the team fees, her mother had found Naina sobbing silently in bed.

“Maybe it’s time for mother-daughter secret,” Mummy had said, and slipped an envelope into her backpack.

Never before had Naina ever felt hope like that. Searing and sharp enough to hurt.

“Really?” Her excitement had made her voice burst from her far too loudly.

“Shh!” Her mother’s smile had made her look like other mothers. “When you’re being brave you have to be very very afraid that no one find out.”

Naina had gone to bed smiling.

At her first practice, Mummy had shown up in a baby-pink tracksuit. One that made her look like one of the cool moms. Instead of the long braid hanging down her back, she had pinned her hair into a bun at her nape. When Naina had missed her shot, she’d come down from the bleachers and shown her how to make the perfect shot. Then she’d shown the other girls. She’d been firm and gentle, and magnificent. The girls on the team had followed her instructions like smitten fans. It was like having a whole different life.

After practice the coach had asked Mummy to be the team parent. Fear had flashed in Mummy’s eyes, turning her back into the mother Naina had grown up with. In that moment, Naina had realized that she would never be able to bear having her old mother back. Never.

Her mother had seen those thoughts in Naina’s eyes, because she’d agreed to become the team mom. Then she’d shown up for practice every day in her pink tracksuit with silver side stripes, and she’d worked the girls hard and made them laugh. The girls hadn’t noticed her thick accent or cared that she pinched their cheeks when they did well. The girls just looked at Naina like she was the luckiest girl in the world. She’d even stitched them matching scrunchies from the fabric she always brought home from India. Team colors of green and yellow.

On the eighth day of practice, Naina and her mother came home to find her father waiting.

“How was basketball practice, Knightlina?” There was not a trace of emotion in his voice.

“Go to your room, beta,” her mother said, a sob tearing her voice. “Now.” That last word was in her coach’s voice, and Naina knew that she would never hear that tone from her mother ever again.