“There is no way you can convince me that hurting me was for my own good. Do you seriously think I’m so blind that I wouldn’t see through your pathetic lies? Now, if you’re done, I need you to go. You’re not welcome.”

Her brother shrugged. “I’ll go. I’ll tell Mumma that convincing you to come was a fruitless exercise. I guess you said your goodbyes to her years ago.”

Raj felt tears in her throat, but her eyes remained dry as dust. “I said goodbye to all of you years ago.”

“Okay.” He put his hands back in his pockets. “For what it’s worth,” he added in Punjabi. “I really am so proud of who you’ve become, Rajneet. You were always the brightest star with the most heart and grit in our family. Mom is very proud of you.”

The elevator door at the end of the corridor opened and Ajay’s mother stepped out. She carried a brown leather tote bag, which clashed with her black walking shoes and black pants. She paused when she saw Guru in the hallway.

“Sat sri akal, Auntyji,” Guru said, as he folded his hands in front of him. He motioned for her to come forward. “I was just leaving.”

Ajay’s mother approached with slow, cautious steps. “Are you a friend of my son’s?”

“No, I’m Rajneet’s brother, come to visit her from Punjab. I am headed to the airport now and saying my goodbyes.”

“Oh,” she said. She turned to Raj, who must’ve still looked glassy, since Ajay’s mother immediately bristled. “Well, have a safe trip.”

“Thank you, Auntyji.”

He stopped halfway to the elevator. “Auntyji? We’re entrusting the happiness and health of my sister to your and your family’s hands. Please take care of her. She doesn’t think she needs it, but we all know better.”

“Guru, I don’t need—”

Ajay’s mother squeezed her arm. “We’ll take care of her.” Then she waited for him to leave before facing Raj again.

“He wasn’t welcome here,” she said simply.

Raj shook her head. She moved back so that the woman could enter her son’s home. I’m getting hit with a one-two punch today, Raj thought. First Kia, then her brother, and now Ajay’s mom. She had a high tolerance for stress and drama, but this was getting a bit much for even Raj to handle.

“Aunty, can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll make it.” After toeing off her shoes she put her tote bag on the kitchen counter. She pulled out a foil-wrapped packet and a jar with seasoning in it. “My Ajay usually has masala for chai, but one can’t be too careful. I carry some around just in case. I also brought paranthas and mango pickle, too. It’s spicy.”