The words seemed to surprise Kapoor. Neither of them spoke for a moment, the newscaster’s voice indistinct in the background.
“Tell me why you hate California so much,” Kapoor said.
Now it was Saffi’s turn to go still. Again with the surprises. It was clear Kapoor hadn’t been expecting an answer because she made to stand, but Saffi spoke first.
“It’s not California. It’s America,” she said distantly. It was a fair exchange, trading one stalemate for another. She opened her mouth, intending to continue, but the words were stuck in her throat. It was then that she realized she’d never actually told this story out loud before.
Kapoor’s eyes held nothing but utter and complete understanding. Of course. If there was anyone who could empathize, it would be her. If she were even capable of empathy, that was.
“Not today,” Kapoor said.
“Not today,” Saffi agreed, and tried not to let the relief show in her face.
Her line of work had taught her that not everyone deserved to be mourned. Sometimes, those people just so happened to be responsible for children. Maybe Kapoor’s guardians were like that. Or maybe they were just an excuse. Maybe Kapoor had always been as fucked-up as she was now.
“I never would’ve taken you for anAnya,” Saffi muttered.
“Don’t think you can start calling me that now.” It was a clear warning.
“Wasn’t planning on it, Kapoor.”
“Well, don’t call me that either,” Kapoor said thoughtfully. “I think we’re well past first-name basis by now, are we not?”
Saffi almost protested before she noticed the mirth in Kapoor’s—inDimple’sexpression. As though they were both in on the same joke. It left her restless. Her hands itched to do something other than sit here so placidly. Saffi tugged open several desk drawers, digging through them.
“Looking for something?”
“I know I have one somewhere—here.” She lifted a single wax candle from her bottommost drawer.
Theemergency drawer,as Eli liked to call it. Inside were matches, a first-aid kit, a flashlight, and the like. Saffi held the sad, beige thing to Dimple, who accepted it with visible confusion.
“What’s this for?”
“Happy Birthday,” Saffi said.
She only knew three birthdays off the top of her head: Andino’s, Taylor’s, and her own. Now, inadvertently, she would be adding Dimple Kapoor’s to the mix. May twenty-eighth. That she’d found Anya Kapoor’s birth certificate on her birthday itself felt like a cosmic coincidence—if Saffi were inclined to believe in such things.
Dimple seemed at a loss for words. She stared down at the candleas though it was the world’s most confounding puzzle. Saffi felt a little ridiculous now, watching her flounder.
“Go on, light it. I know you want to, you damn pyro.”
For whatever reason, Dimple played along. She lit the candle and closed her eyes, as though making a wish, before blowing it out.
The corners of Saffi’s mouth tugged upward. “What did you wish for?”
Dimple gave her a sly look. “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
Saffi had been about to retort when something on the TV caught her attention. It shouldn’t have registered in her preoccupied mind, but some subconscious part of her must’ve been paying attention—and it was a good thing she was. The reporter said a familiar name and Saffi stood abruptly, increasing the volume.
“—warrant out for the arrest of the lead in the upcoming filmInsomnia.Law enforcement is seeking—”
Saffi inhaled sharply. Dimple shot to her feet in her peripheral.
Impossible. No one had ever solved a case faster than her. Nobody was faster than her, period. No matter rain or shine, weekday or holiday, if Saffi wasn’t awake before the sun, then she’d already fallen behind. Her father had always said that the sleeping hours were the ones most often wasted. First, she’d slept through the news of Dimple’s fall and now this. Clearly, he’d been right.
Saffi turned to Dimple and was transported back to when they first met at the hospital. Her face was just as ashen as it had been then. Except this time, there were no flowers attempting to breathe life back into her. Just a dull candle and a red lighter cradled in her palms.
Chapter Twenty-Two
