Naturally, Nisha picked up on the fact that Vansh wasn’t going to take the bait no matter how hard she tried. Naturally, that made her try harder. “All I want is for you to be careful, Vansh!”

“Careful about what? We’re working together. Naina is fabulous at what she does. She’s family, Nisha!”

Nisha executed another scoff. “Family doesn’t use one another. Doesn’t hurt one another.”

Before Vansh could react, Esha stood. She’d appeared much less fragile these past few months that he’d been home, but she still was unused to conflict.

“I’m sorry, Esha,” Nisha and Vansh said together.

“Enough,” their grandmother said.

“I’m fine,” Esha snapped. Vansh had never heard her snap. “You’re being unfair, Nisha.”

Nisha looked like she’d been slapped.

Esha turned to Vansh. “You said you were working on a project to help homeless people in San Francisco?”

“Yes. We’re trying to come up with a program that will help local companies find and train unemployed people within the city who live on the street.”

“That’s not usually Naina’s sphere of interest. Why is she working with you on it?” Nisha asked, getting over her shock at being reprimanded by Esha far too fast.

“Because Jiggy Mehta has forced her to,” Vansh said, then wished he hadn’t, because Nisha made an I-told-you-so face.

Vansh mirrored her scoff, but already this conversation had gone on longer than he wanted it to.

“You know what would help a project like that?” Esha said, inserting herself between Nisha and Vansh. “International media coverage.” It was an entirely un-Esha-like thing to say, and for a moment they all stared at her, everything else forgotten.

She seemed calm in the face of their balking, which was the first sign of the old Esha. “You should get some really hard-hitting photographs of your work. That will make it high-profile and make companies want to be part of it for the PR mileage.”

Vansh stared at her. He should have been used to this, her knowing stuff, but it still threw him. “Photographs?”

“By some high-profile photographer who can capture the essence of the issue.”

Sid Dashwood! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Vansh hugged her. She didn’t so much as flinch. “That’s brilliant, Esha! I think I know just the photographer who might be interested.”

Esha blinked up at him. “Who?”

“You know India’s brother, Sid? He’s in town and we’ve become friends.” Vansh hadn’t managed to have Sid over to the Anchorage to meet the family yet because he’d barely been home, but they’d been texting regularly. Sid had dropped by to photograph the scrub jays almost every day, and they’d spent some time talking about Vansh’s project. “I’ll bet I can talk him into it.”

“Why would he do a project like this?” Esha asked, color tinging her usually pale cheeks.