A flutter of nervous excitement buzzed through her veins as she left the coach house. Her plan to drive Ethan away was now in motion. She accessed the remote-control app and set off one of the sequences she had programmed. Then backtracking to the coach house, she knocked lightly on the door and stepped back inside.
“Forgot to ask,” she said, leaning casually against the door. “How was your first night?”
“Funny you should ask,” Ethan replied, his brow creasing. “I slept well enough last night. No sign of Bhooa masi, but the strangest thing just happened. The light by the entrance came on by itself. Then the lights across the room began to turn on one by one. And just as quickly, they all went out. Except for this one.” He motioned toward the floor lamp.
“Ah, yes.” Priya nodded. “Sometimes Bhooa masi resorts to other ways of making her presence known during the day. Lights going on and off, static on the TV, strange noises…You know, the usual paranormal activities.”
“Interesting.” Ethan walked around the lamp, his eyes searching for a more logical explanation.
Priya wished Ethan would just embrace his inner scaredy-cat and run for the hills. But she wasn’t worried; this was just the tip of the iceberg. The stage was set, and the game had just begun. If that meant facing off against the devil, even one as tempting as a Hollywood star, then so be it.
Back in her room, Priya unleashed another sequence of supernatural lights on Ethan. It would be even more fun at night, but knowing she had the power to make Ethan jump with a flick of her fingers filled her with naughty delight.
As she settled back in her chair, an unexpected message from her ex popped up on her screen. She hadn’t heard from him since arriving back home.
Sorry to bug you, but I’m having a hard time integrating a new payment gateway into a client’s site. Any chance you could lend a hand?
Intrigued, Priya opened her laptop and analyzed the code until she caught the stumbling block. She rewrote the code and tested it before replying to Manoj.
Done, she messaged, attaching the solution.
Manoj’s reply appeared almost instantly.Miss you.
Priya stared at her screen. She knew he wasn’t just referring to their professional partnership, but that didn’t matter. She had no intention of revisiting the past with him.
A moment later, Manoj sent another message:I’m working on cashing out your share of the company. I’ll be in touch. Thanks.
Priya exhaled and opened a file on her laptop, scrolling through the list of freelance contracts she’d managed to pick up since parting ways with Manoj. She quickly did the math and bit her lip. She was grateful for the work, but it wasn’t enough to rebuildher life. What she needed was a fresh start, and that wasn’t happening until Manoj handed over her share of the company. Being broke had backed her into a corner, forcing her into a series of compromises, including moving back in with her parents. As much as she appreciated being able to stay with them, doing so also bound her to their wishes and expectations. To reclaim her independence, she had to get back on her feet as soon as possible.
Priya’s thoughts were derailed by the doorbell. Normally, Mumma would yell for her to answer it, but ever since last night’s sangeet, her parents hadn’t been speaking much to her. Silence had always been their favorite form of control—cold, heavy, and impossible to ignore. Growing up, Priya and her sisters had learned that their parents wielded it both as a weapon and a shield. All she could do was wait it out until their anger had cooled.
With a weary sigh, Priya made her way downstairs and answered the door.
“Priya Solanki?” a man in a delivery uniform asked, glancing at the screen of his handheld device.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Special delivery. I’m going to need some ID.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” Priya said, heading back upstairs.Crazy that Ethan can’t even use his name for something as simple as a delivery. What other compromises does he have to make?
The delivery man checked Priya’s ID and then motioned for her to follow him outside. As soon as she saw the brand-new motorcycle parked beside a transport truck, her jaw dropped. It was a dead ringer for Ethan’s old bike, complete with a matching helmet.
She scribbled her signature on the paperwork, her mind still spinning. As the truck rumbled away, Mumma descended onPriya. Still angry from their argument the night before, her voice escalated to a new level.
“Aa su?” Her hands flew to her hips. “You bought amotorcycle?”
“Actually, Mrs. Solanki, I did,” Ethan’s smooth voice interjected.
Mumma and Priya whirled around.
“Oh, how lovely it is!” Mumma’s hands quickly relocated to her chest, her change of tune about as subtle as a Bollywood dance number at a funeral.
“Glad you approve,” Ethan replied, his lips curling into a grin. “Let’s see how she sounds, shall we?”
Mounting the motorcycle, he revved the engine, unleashing a deep rumble that vibrated through Priya’s shoes. She barely had time to wince before the funeral home door swung open and Puppa stepped out.
Uh-oh, she thought.
