That had to be worth something, right?

Karina longed to tell her mother, as she now sat in prayer upstairs, that it was futile to appeal to God for anything. Had they ever been truly happy? She didn’t know anymore. She knew only that any chance they had at happiness died along with Prem.

* * *

Toward the end of the school year, Karina came home one day to find a construction truck parked in the driveway and the sounds of a jackhammer coming from the backyard. She recalled her mother mentioning that the project would start this week: the swimming pool was being filled in and covered with a new patch of lawn. Her father had come into Karina’s room and nervously asked her if it was okay with her. Inwardly, she was relieved. It may have been the first thing in the past year all three of them agreed on. Karina had found herself unable to walk by the pool, or even to look at it from her bedroom window, and had taken to keeping her window shades closed. Now, she followed the pounding noises to the yard and watched for a few minutes as the hollow shell of the pool was punctured, concrete and tile rubble littering its bottom.

Inexplicably heartened by this sight, Karina put down her backpack and dug inside the front pocket for Prem’s small Swiss Army knife. She turned it over in her hand, noting its smooth, unscratched surface. She pulled out the large blade and pressed it gently into her finger pad. Then in a single, swift motion, she drew back her arm and flung the knife into the broken cavern.

15 | Keith

May 2010

Keith left the office early the day the crew began working on the backyard, knowing it might be a difficult day for Jaya. She had been singularly focused, almost obsessed, with removing the backyard pool before the first anniversary of Prem’s death. As he entered the house, he heard voices upstairs and followed them. Jaya was leaning against the doorframe of Prem’s room, watching a construction worker tear up carpet from the floor while another took a sledgehammer to the built-in bookshelves.

“What . . . ?” Keith said, taking in the scene before him. “What is happening here?”

“Oh!” Jaya turned to him with an excited smile. “There you are,” she said, as if he was the one who had disappeared. “I’ve finally figured out what to do. It came to me when I was sitting in prayer. And these fellows were already here for the pool. So opportune!” She flipped through a small notebook she took from her pocket, stopping at a page with a pencil sketch. The drawing was of a full room-sized temple, dwarfing the small nook he’d seen tucked away in her parents’ home.

Keith felt visceral pain in his chest as he heard the sledgehammer slam into the empty bookshelf. Where were Prem’s things? His books, his toys, the pennants that lined the walls? He looked back to Jaya in disbelief. “How . . . ?” How could she do this? he wanted to ask, but he was struck by the realization that she was dressed in a crisp salwar kameez, and her hair was freshly washed and combed.