Before Vansh could respond, Jiggy pushed away from the table just as a new song started up. “That’s my favorite song. The only Amitabh Bachchan dandiya song, did you know? Come on!” With that he dragged Vansh with him to the dance floor.

The circle of fast-moving dancers who were twirling and clinking the dandiya sticks to the five-step dance opened up for them.

Jiggy threw up his sticks and caught them on a spin, his shark grin challenging Vansh to a dandiya duel. Really? He was a lightweight, at least here on the dance floor. Vansh let loose some flashy moves, spinning and twirling his sticks in the air like batons. Jiggy’s angry laugh was the last thing Vansh saw before Jiggy spun away. Vansh threw himself into the dance. He needed the motion, needed to fly faster than his thoughts.

Naina had been right all along. She was not going to take this well, and Vansh couldn’t think of a single way to make it better, not unless he got Mehta to backtrack. And that seemed impossible without risking Naina’s work and breaking his promise to Hari.

As he spun through the air, Mishka found him, and he did some comical moves for her. Making his niece laugh made him feel better. He always found a way. Why would this be different?

A few songs after Nisha’s last glare telling Mishka it was time to leave, Vansh dragged Mishka off the dance floor. The press of bodies was thick and sweaty and euphoric.

“There’s mango kulfi with fresh mangoes,” his niece said, puppy-dog eyes out on powerful display. “Please. If you get some with me, Mom can’t yell at me about it. She’ll yell at you. In any case why does she have to drag me home now, when there’s still dancing? Tomorrow is Sunday! Can you tell her to let me stay and you can take me home later?”

“I already got your mom to let you stay this late. Ice cream quickly, then off you go or she’ll have my head. She just texted that they’re already headed to the car.”

“Fine,” Mishka said, linking arms with him. “But what did you do for Mom to get so mad at you? I’ve never seen her glare at you like that.”

“It seems like everyone’s mad at me these days.” He mumbled it, hoping the music would drown out his words. But his niece’s hearing was as sharp as her brain.

“Do you mean Naina Auntie? I didn’t know you two were friends.” Did his nine-year-old niece just stress the word friends in a most adult way?

“When did you stop being a baby and turn into a nosy auntie?”

“I thought she was too beautiful for Yash Mama anyway. You two look much better together.”