All her life she’d been terrified of this happening. Of a man doing this to her someday. Destroying her with a flick of his hand. She had expected to be more prepared.

Her bladder hurt too. She was having a hard time getting out of bed, even to make it to the bathroom. She had to get out of her apartment. For good. It was a mausoleum to her and Vansh. Like the damned Taj Mahal.

Someone had given her mother a miniature replica of the Taj Mahal once. Dr. Kohli had thrown it away, declaring it “too tacky.” Naina had pulled it out of the trash and put it in her nightstand drawer. She wondered if it was still there. She’d completely forgotten about it.

Finally, unable to be pathetic enough to pee herself, she made her way to the bathroom. Crying on the pot was possibly even more pathetic than not making it there. She couldn’t stop.

The knock on her bathroom door nearly killed her with fright.

“Vansh?” she said without thinking about it. He was the only one with her apartment code.

“Naina, beta?”

No! Please. She couldn’t face her mother right now. Why was she here?

“I need a minute,” Naina said, and splashed her face in an attempt to not look like she’d been sobbing for three days. It was a losing battle, so she gave up and went back to her bed and dropped into it, Mummy close on her heels.

“You smell bad.” It was the first thing her mother said. She, on the other hand, smelled like roses and fresh paneer. Like Mummy.

“How did you get in here?”

“Your code.”

She should never have given Vansh her code. Then again, the list of things she should not have done with Vansh was endless and a waste of time to recount in this moment.

Plucking a tissue from her nightstand, she honked into it before the snot leaked from her.

Why was he doing this to her? What had she ever done to deserve this?

Why had he sent Mummy?

Because he knew that anyone else seeing her like this would destroy her. He knew exactly what kind of mess she was right now.

The nerve.

“What do you want, Mummy?”

“The neighbors smell you and call cops. Then cops call Mummy. Like from-school calls for safety.”

Naina poked her nose close to her shoulder and smelled herself. “It’s not that bad.” It was terrible. “My school never called you.” Not once.

Her mother placed a hand on Naina’s head. “You always very good girl.” She was right. Naina hadn’t done a single thing to add to her mother’s troubles. Not once. “Even when you too young, you took care of Mummy. Thank you.”