“Where…? I… thought it was lost…”
“It has been going off with calls from your Mom and Dad. That is why I got it right now.” He handed it into her open palm and began to turn. Amaal noticed he wore a green scrubs top over his pants. That’s when she remembered. He had pressed his T-shirt to the little girl’s wound.
“Do you need me?” She called out.
He turned, eyebrows raised.
“At the office, I mean. All this has happened, I should have come there first.”
“You are on sick leave. Stay home.”
“Not if you need me there.”
“There’s nothing that a media coordinator can do about this. Rest.”
“What happened?”
“They threatened the locals from going to the event, Atharva still managed to coax them after namaaz. Word reached them and they came and opened fire to send a message.”
“They?”
“Separatists. Militants. Terrorists. Many names.”
The silent, cold lobby froze. Amaal stepped out of her flat — “You came from Badamwari?”
“Hospital.”
“The girl? Those… people?”
He stared at her for a second, then nodded — “Being treated.”
Amaal had a feeling he was lying. But she did not have the courage to call him out right now. Or listen to the truth if he was actually lying.
“Do you want coffee, food…?”
“No.”
“Water? Anything? It’s been…” she paused. She couldn’t even remember how many hours it had been.
“Water.” He finally relented, turning and walking back towards her. Amaal stepped inside and heard him close the door. She went to the kitchen, starting the purifier to fill a glass just as her mobile blared to life. Dad.
“Hello? Dad, hi…”
“Amaal!” Her father exclaimed. “Thank god! Seema, I have her here. She is ok. Are you ok?”
“Yes, yes, my phone got lost. I just got it back.”
“What is this news? That event you hosted had militants shooting? What is wrong with you?! This is it. Six months I sat quietly. Now you saw what happens there? It is not safe to be, forget live. Come back. Come back immediately. I am already on the internet booking your ticket.”
The water overflowed, and she quickly knocked the tab shut. “Dad, relax…”
“No…!” “Give her to me!” She heard her mother’s voice. Amaal picked up the glass and carried it outside. Samar stood at her window, his back taut, his shoulders broad as they blocked the flare of light from the streetlamp outside.
“Amaal!” Her mother’s calm voice came on. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I am fine.”
Samar’s body didn’t tauten more at the sound of her voice. It was then that Amaal knew that he had been aware of her presence in the hall even before she had entered it. She trudged closer and offered him the water over his arm. He took it, not moving from there, giving her the out to take the call inside her bedroom.
