When I’ve hung up, I put the oxygen mask back on, my breathing slightly laboured, and wrap myself tighter in the blanket they put around me.
‘Hey.’ Salman joins me at the back of the ambulance, wearing an identical blanket. ‘How’re you holding up?’
I take the mask back off and place it beside me. ‘Fine. I need to go to the hospital, but it should be OK. The paramedic seems confident that my burn will heal all right. Just wants me to get it checked in case of infection, you know.’
‘Right, right.’ He nods his head slowly, his lips in a thin line, worry written all over his face.
‘You know you’re not supposed to run into a burning building, right?’ I tease, gently nudging his shoulder with mine. ‘You could have died, Salman.’
‘It wasn’tthatbad a fire.’
‘Yeah, but you didn’t know that when you ran in.’
He rubs his face with his hand. ‘I know.’
‘So, why did you?’
‘Pop,’ he says, my name heavy on his tongue, ‘you know why.’
And I do. Of course I do. There’s no hiding behind false walls now. The cards are all on the table.
‘Thanks for coming back,’ I whisper.
‘Any time. Someone’s got to be on watch when you’re on the loose.’
‘Hey! Rude. This was clearly just an attempt to give Eternally Yours some press coverage,notme being clumsy as per.’
‘I don’t think this is the kind of press Sadia wants,’ he says with a chuckle.
‘What would you suggest instead?’
‘Well, how about –’
But Salman doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say because his gaze is drawn to a car pulling in.
No, wait.Twocars.
‘Your parents are here,’ I say, part statement and part question.
‘Yeah, the paramedics wouldn’t let me home without a guardian, even though I hardly inhaled any smoke,’ Salman says with an eye roll before turning to me with realisation. ‘Shit, is that your mum too?’
Yup. Our blue Mazda has pulled up right behind Hira Auntie’s silver Toyota. All I can do is wait with bated breath for them to get out of the cars and come face to face for the first time in months.
‘Poppy!’ Ma rushes over to me as soon as she has turned off the engine, leaving the car door wide open.
‘Ma, I’m OK,’ I say as she throws her arms around me, her tears wetting the top of my head. ‘The paramedic said I’ll be OK. I need to go to the hospi—’
‘Hospital?’ she shrieks, stepping back to assess me. When she spots the gauze on my leg, she gasps. ‘Oh, Poppy.’
‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’ I stand up to prove it, hoping I do a good enough job of hiding how sharp the pain really is. ‘See? It’s fine. Honestly, it’s more for show than anything, but they just want to make sure there’s no infection.’
Ma’s eyes keep watering and I bring her back in for a hug when, over her shoulder, I spot Hira Auntie and Azad Uncle by their car.
Seeing them feels like looking at strangers. Before, Hira Auntie was the first person I’d go to for advice when I did something I shouldn’t have, afraid of what Ma would say when she found out, and every time she treated me with as much grace and love as she would her own child. Before, Azad Uncle was the steady presence I always felt but didn’t necessarily need to see; he made me feel protected no matter how difficult I could be. Especially in the wake of Baba’s death.
But when I look at the couple in front of me, I don’t see that. All I see is the pain they inflicted on Ma.
Ma turns to see where I’m looking and locks eyes with Salman’s parents. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking and instinctively I glance at Salman.
