Page 100 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“Did Tara tell you?”

She shook her head. “I know you, beta. Even if you don’t see me as your mother anymore, I have raised you. I know you inside out.”

“Mom, I’m sorry for what I said.”

“That’s alright. You do what you think is best for you.”

I hung my head. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Sona,” she said. “You need Sona. You shouldn’t have let her go…but who are we to tell you anything anymore?”

“Don’t say that, Mom,” I pleaded.

“Let’s go out for dinner,” Dad said to Mom, completely disregarding my conversation with her.

“No, I don’t feel like going out tonight. I’ll make something simple.” Mom got up and walked toward the bedroom.

Dad shrugged. “Well, it was good to see you, Mihir. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I hated you for calling Mike and Grant,” I said, and he looked away, “but I’m grateful for it, Dad. I’m here because of them.”

I heard Mom’s bedroom door open, and I stood as she walked toward us.

“This is Sona’s address in Mumbai. Go see her.” She handed me a piece of paper, then turned on her heel and walked back inside without waiting for me to respond. No goodbye, not even a glance at me before I heard the bedroom door close.

Dad stood from his seat. “We’ll see you later, Mihir.”

“What are you doing, Dad? What is this? Are you throwing me out of the house?”

“You didn’t speak to us for three months,” he said in a hushed voice. “You didn’t check up on us, didn’t return our calls. What if one of us was dead? Would you even know?”

“Dad!”

“Things are different now, Mihir. We don’t know how to be around you, and I can’t bear to see her like this. You broke her heart many times over.” He threw a concerned glance in the direction of the bedroom.

“I was outraged. I was angry and hurt. Don’t I get even a little time to come to terms with the loss of my identity, my person?”

His face softened, but he didn’t concede. “I’ll cook her something.” He looked at the bedroom again. “Let me know if you need anything from us.”

“That’s it? Is this how you’re going to be with me now?”

He walked to the door without a word and held it open for me.

I had come to reconcile, but I stormed out in fury.

As I heard the latch close behind me, I felt my ears burning hot. The anger traveled fast to my head. By the time I took the freeway back home, angry tears streamed down my face. I didn’t know what they were for.

Was I lamenting the loss of my parents’ love? Or the loss of my staunch, infallible allies? My greatest champions? Or was I angry at the lies that had led to this loss?

Was I not supposed to react with anger at finding out the truth? Did they expect me to hold in perfect poise while my world was dragged from underneath me and replaced with a different truth?

But it made my resolve stronger. I had to find my birth mother. I didn’t know what I wanted from her, but I needed to see her, touch her, hear her at least once. Mom’s words haunted me. Sona. You need Sona.

That’s exactly who I needed. I knew she was in India, in Mumbai, and that’s where my destination lay. She was the one who had taught me how to receive with grace. She was the one who encouraged me to learn how to ask for help. I was ready—to ask for help and to win back her trust.

One last thing I did before leaving for India was to come clean to Tara and Sameer. Despite my cold behavior over the past months, they received me with open arms.

“Everything seems bleak right now,” I said after telling them the whole story. “My parents are upset with me, and it’s not like I can share this with ease.”

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