While everyone else was always only trying to make sure she wasn’t going to collapse into a convulsing heap, or trying to figure out what she saw inside them, Sid was constantly aware of what she might be feeling. What she might need. Curious about what thought might’ve flown through her mind. Or what reaction she might’ve had to something he said. Or how the beautiful sights they were passing might affect her.

“I do know that Yash was in some sort of relationship with Naina and that they’ve been best friends since forever,” he said, amusement threading through his voice. “I’m talking about Vansh. The younger of your two brothers.” She loved that he always said brothers, never cousins. He understood what her family was to her. “Vansh, whom I’m working with on the San Francisco project. I think he and Naina are more than just friends.”

“Sorry, I thought you said Yash.” Saying those words made her irrationally happy. Getting things wrong made her irrationally happy. “Really? Vansh and Naina? Is that weird?”

He shrugged. “They don’t feel weird together. Just happy.”

Having him tell her that also made her irrationally happy.

She looked up at the sky, feeling like she wanted to spin around. Out of habit she searched the cottony clouds for Garuda. But still no sign of him.

“You’re distracted today. Why do you keep looking at the sky? Are you searching for the Brahminy kite?”

She stumbled and his grip on her hand tightened, keeping her from falling. She pulled her hand away and he let her go.

“Are you ever going to tell me what the deal is with that kite?” He didn’t add that she had told him nothing about herself. None of the truths that suddenly felt like stories she’d made up. Not how much of a miracle this was, their walking on the estate together, her having so many thoughts.

With the thoughts of others gone from her mind, there was suddenly space inside her that she could fill with whatever she wanted. And sometimes she didn’t like the thoughts that flooded in.

She started walking again. Discomfort flared in her chest. When they walked around the estate, one of Sid’s favorite things to do was to name all the flora and fauna (his favorite phrase) on the trails. He loved to tell her the histories of where they had originated and how they had ended up in Northern California, or some myth or legend associated with each, or a personal experience.

For a person whose work involved being quiet forever and ever, he was full of stories. All his stories had to do with this thing he loved, that consumed him. Nature.

“Is it only about the kite?”