Page 117 of The Rules of Playing with Fire

“He was hurting. I guess he wondered if anyone could love him. He’ll be himself soon. Everything will be alright,” I said.

“Has he found her, his birth mother?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“I hope he finds her. It might give him some perspective. He thinks everyone pities him, but the truth is, we all loved him to do what we did. I hope he sees it.”

“He knows, Aunty. He sees it now.”

“I miss you too, you know,” she said.

“I’m so sorry! Mihir asked me never to call you again. You extended me your friendship, and I foolishly let my relationship with Mihir undermine it. But I’ll be closer now. I hope you can come visit me with Tara.” I told her about the Houston job.

“That is wonderful, Sona! We couldn’t be more proud of you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Aunty.” My mood brightened as I envisioned her smile.

“Sona, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Any chance of you and Mihir…”

“He asked me this evening,” I said softly. “Said, rather. He said he wants me back.”

“Yes?” I detected hope in her voice.

“But it’s been difficult for me.” I told her how things had unfolded.

“He is a fool,” she said. “Who takes such a critical decision about one’s life when one is feeling lost?”

“It took me three months to get to where I am now, and my heart refuses to trust again.”

“I understand,” Aunty said. “I’m glad he has you there. At least that’s one thing he got right. Will you keep me posted?”

I hesitated. “I would hate talking about it behind his back, Aunty, but I can bring it up with him. If he’s comfortable, I’ll be happy to share updates.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry to drag you into our family drama.” Her voice had dropped low with guilt.

“No, please don’t say that. I’ll be happy to keep in touch with you, just not about Mihir. We do have our own friendship.”

She laughed, and then I heard her say my name. “Arvind is asking what’s brought this huge smile to my face,” she said back on the line. “I said it’s you.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you in Houston. You better not renege on it.”

“I will definitely come visit you. Thank you for everything, beta.”

I hardly got any sleep that night as I dove into reading about adoption and the relationship between birth parents, adopted children, and adoptive parents. There was a sea of information. I read several shorter articles and bookmarked ethnographies and case-studies for later. It was almost four in the morning when I finally fell asleep.

I woke up late and rushed through my ablutions and grooming routine to get ready on time.

I didn’t remember Malati’s address, but Sanjay was a sharp man. Once he’d driven a route, he seldom forgot. He drove me confidently, without missing a turn, right to the gates of the building.

The elderly gentleman was at the tea stall again. He was a bit surprised when I said “Namaskar,” to him. Malati opened the door with a wide grin, like she was keen on figuring out the mystery of her father’s cryptic entries in the notebooks.

We peered over the entries, written in Marathi, with some English letters thrown in.

“Where did your father work?” I asked.

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