“What is happening, Samar?”
His mouth opened, silently pulling in more oxygen.
“I will listen. And I will not breathe a word of it. Ever. We will forget it tomorrow.”
As oxygen pushed into his body, his brain began to work right again. Samar shook his head.
“This is not healthy. Do something, talk to somebody. Talk to me, no strings attached.”
His mouth pressed shut.
“Mmm?”
“Hmm.”
And it was the first time he saw her smile after he had answered her in Hmm.
“Is it your family?” She asked, her voice low.
“It’s Chaturvedi.” His voice was equally low, the notes of music from the party running between them.
“Was he with you in SFF?”
“She.”
Amaal’s face changed.
“She flew helicopters,” his eyes went into the distance. “She was the most fearless person I know. She was the funniest girl. She was pregnant…”
Silence.
“When?”
“Long back.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was so hardheaded and brave and stupid and such a liar.”
“Mmm… how did you know her?”
Samar saw her, circling her chopper in a spiral around their base. So low, he thought she would crash the bird headfirst into his dispensary. And then laughing. At his panic.
“She loved to wear caps.”
“Caps?”
“Caps. All kinds of caps. She stole our caps for fun, kleptomaniac.”
The red Coca-Cola cap. She wore it even when they went out at night.
“Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
There was something on his face. Samar pulled his gaze from Sia in her red cap, brim down, sticking her tongue out. And in his line of sight was Amaal. Her hair sticking to her cheek, blue eyes zeroed in on him. She smiled, but didn’t look happy. The dimple wasn’t deep enough. Something pushed firmly into the side of his face, and he bent his jaw to check. It was her palm, on his cheek.
Samar recoiled ten steps.
