Jaya had survived those years by developing a deep spiritual practice. She could see now that before Prem’s death, she hadn’t been living in harmony with God and the universe, challenging fate to bring her misfortune. While she’d thought her job at the Policy Institute was meaningful, it had really just been secular work: dealing with human beings and situations of their own making. The life she and Keith had created—and the persistent pursuit of money to fund that life—was a false belief, to an insignificant end. She was ashamed to realize that the home she’d created, with paint colors and furnishings she’d carefully selected, held no shrine before her mother came to visit. Western life had become so much a part of Jaya that she’d neglected the most important part of life itself. But with Prem’s death, she had a chance to realign the way she lived.

Jaya returned to her bedroom and put the last few items into her overnight bag, zipped it up and carried it down the stairs. As she descended, she saw Keith and Karina in the front foyer.

Now that she was living in accord with her spirituality, there was little friction in her daily existence. She prepared modest vegetarian meals and no longer expended energy on sensorial pleasures: she wore simple clothes, cut her hair short, wore no makeup. She hadn’t bought a lipstick in years. Jaya found solace in her mantras, her prayers, and her knowledge that her life now honored God, keeping her and those she loved safe. It was better now, for both her and Keith, though he didn’t seem to accept this truth as she did. She wished she could be free of the pull of guilt she still felt from him.

“Here.” Keith leaped up the stairs to meet her. “Let me get that.” He reached for her bag. “Thanks.” Even during the divorce, when they were drawing a line through their life, separating their belongings, their friends and their memories, Keith had remained decent toward her, more heartbroken than angry. Jaya knew then that whatever else had gone wrong in her life, it had not been a mistake to marry him. Karina and Prem were the good things that had come out of her marriage. And her rediscovery of faith was the one good thing that came from Prem’s death. Everything had a purpose, once you appreciated the spiritual laws of the universe.

“The food still needs to be sealed up,” Jaya said, heading into the kitchen. “Karina, what fruit would you like to take? I have apples, pears, grapes—”

“Mom, I don’t need that much food. I have orientation events for the first three days. I probably won’t even be in my room much.”

In the kitchen, Jaya sealed the plastic containers holding the food she’d prepared: rice, chapatis, dal and Karina’s favorite vegetable curries. At least her daughter would eat well for the first few days until she got settled.

Keith came into the kitchen. “Last bag’s in the car and I have space for the food. All set?”