With You - Chapters 1 - 4 posted

Chapter 1- Papa's girl

“Papa, you’re cheating!” Geet accused as she leaned across the coffee table, her eyes narrowing at the black knight her father had moved whilst she’d been looking towards the kitchen. She glanced up at him when he placed a hand against his chest, though the offended expression on his face did little to convince her when she’d already caught him doing the same thing earlier.

“Geetu, are you accusing your own father of cheating?” Rajveer questioned, watching his daughter reach for his knight without waiting for an explanation. “You can’t just move my pieces because you’re losing,” he added, catching her wrist before she could remove another one from the board.

“I’m moving them because you’re cheating,” Geet corrected as she pulled her hand free and returned the knight to its original square. “That one was here, and you moved it when I wasn’t looking. I saw you.”

“If you weren’t looking, how did you see me?” Rajveer asked, arching his brows as she paused with her fingers resting on the piece, clearly considering his question before deciding that she didn’t need to answer it.

“You know what I mean, Papa,” Geet responded, waving towards the board impatiently. “Put it back.”

“Nine years old and already ordering your father around,” Rajveer muttered as he settled back against the sofa, shaking his head at the satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Your mother has completely ruined you.”

“Mama says you ruined me,” Geet informed him, reaching for her own piece whilst Rajveer glanced towards the kitchen to make sure his wife hadn’t heard them.

“Your mama talks too much,” he told her, lowering his voice just enough to make Geet giggle, though the sound of Simran clearing her throat had them both turning towards the doorway.

“And yet you married me,” Simran reminded him as she stood with her arms crossed, her eyes moving between her husband and daughter before settling on Rajveer.

“Biggest mistake of my life,” Rajveer answered with a grin, which quickly disappeared when she picked up the dishcloth from the counter and started towards him. “I’m joking, meri jaan,” he assured her, raising his hands as Geet burst into laughter beside him. “You know I’m joking.”

“Rajveer Handa, you’ve been very brave since this one started taking your side,” Simran replied, flicking the cloth against his shoulder whilst he reached for Geet and pulled her against him.

“Violence in front of our innocent child,” Rajveer complained, resting his chin on top of Geet’s head as she continued laughing. “What kind of example are you setting?”

“Innocent?” Simran repeated, looking down at her daughter, who immediately attempted to straighten her face. “That one has been stealing pieces of paneer from the kitchen for the last half hour, and you’re calling her innocent?”

“I was checking if it was cooked,” Geet defended, smiling when her mother bent to kiss her forehead before smoothing back the hair that had escaped her clips.

“Then you can check the rest at the table,” Simran responded. “Dinner is ready, so come before it gets cold.”

“I was winning, Mama,” Geet informed her as she turned back towards the board, wanting her mother to see before Rajveer had the chance to move anything else.

“Because you keep changing where my pieces are,” Rajveer replied, reaching towards the crutches beside the sofa whilst Geet started explaining exactly how many times he had cheated. Simran shook her head at the two of them, moving closer to her husband as he shifted towards the edge of his seat.

“I’ve got it,” Rajveer assured her when she placed a hand beneath his arm, though he allowed her to remain beside him whilst he secured his crutches and carefully stood.

“I know you have,” Simran answered, waiting until he was steady before picking up the cushion that had slipped onto the floor. “Geet, put the pieces away properly this time. I found one under the sofa yesterday.”

“That was Papa’s,” Geet called after them, gathering the pieces into their box whilst Rajveer complained to Simran that his daughter blamed him for everything.

Geet had watched her parents move around each other like that for as long as she could remember, with Mama helping before Papa asked and Papa insisting that he didn’t need quite so much fussing over. He could walk with his crutches, though not for very long, and when they went somewhere that meant being out for most of the day, Mama took the wheelchair that remained folded beside the front door. On the days his leg hurt more, they stayed at home and played games or watched films, with Geet usually squeezing herself between her parents until Rajveer complained that he no longer had any room on his own sofa.

She had never thought there was anything unusual about their family, nor had she felt that anything was missing when her father watched from a bench whilst Mama pushed her on the swings. Papa was still the person she called out to when she went higher, and he was always there to tell her that he’d seen.

“Can I have the last paratha?” Geet asked once they were seated at the dining table, leaning forward to look inside the basket between her parents.

“No, because I want it,” Rajveer responded, moving the basket towards himself before she could reach it.

“You’ve already had three,” Geet reminded him, frowning when he shrugged as though that wasn’t a perfectly good reason to give it to her. “And you told Mama you’re getting fat.”

Rajveer lowered the piece of paratha he was holding and turned towards his wife, who had pressed her fingers against her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her laughter.

“Simran, control your daughter,” he demanded, gesturing towards Geet whilst she looked between them, unable to understand what she’d said wrong when he had been the one complaining about his trousers that morning.

“She learnt honesty from you,” Simran replied, reaching for the serving spoon and adding more paneer to Geet’s plate.

“Papa, please,” Geet tried again, stretching her hand towards the basket, only for Rajveer to rest his palm over it.

“Say I’m handsome,” he instructed, leaning back in his chair as she narrowed her eyes at him. “One little compliment, Geetu, and the paratha is yours.”

“Mama,” Geet complained, turning towards her mother instead, and Simran promptly lifted the paratha from beneath Rajveer’s hand and placed it on their daughter’s plate.

“Eat before he thinks of something else,” Simran told her, smiling when Geet tore off a piece and dipped it into her paneer.

“Traitor,” Rajveer muttered at his wife, though when Geet held a small piece towards him, he leaned forward and ate it from her fingers, making her laugh when he complained that she’d given him the smallest bit.

At nine, Geet had never needed to consider whether she was allowed to ask for something. If she was hungry, she told her parents, and if she needed a pencil or wanted the red shoes instead of the black ones, she said so with the confidence of a child who knew she would be heard. Sometimes Papa said no, and sometimes Mama told her to wait until her birthday, but neither of them ever made her feel that wanting something was wrong.

She was their daughter, and in the home Rajveer and Simran had made for her, there had always been room for whatever she needed.

After Simran suddenly passed away unexpected, Geet kept expecting to hear her mother moving around the kitchen. Even with the house full of relatives, she found herself turning towards the doorway whenever someone carried in a tray, only to look away when it was another auntie asking whether she had eaten.

Women she barely knew pulled her into their arms and cried into her hair, whilst the men sat beside Papa and spoke so quietly that she couldn’t hear them unless she moved closer.

Jasmeen, Rajveer’s mother arrived from Delhi with Rajinder and Sukhmani, and Geet spent most of those first days pressed against her grandmother’s side or curled beside her father. Nobody told her to go and play, and nobody complained when she fell asleep holding tightly to Rajveer’s shirt, though sometimes she woke to find his cheek resting against her hair and his arms still around her.

When the relatives began leaving, she watched their bags appear beside the front door, worrying each time that Dadima’s things would be amongst them. Jasmeen stayed longer, stroking Geet’s hair at night and preparing the food she usually liked, but eventually she had to return to Delhi too, and Geet stood beside her father whilst Rajinder carried the last of their bags to the car.

With everyone gone, there was no longer enough noise to distract her from the places where her mother should have been. She noticed the empty chair at dinner and the silence when Papa called her to get ready for school, because Mama was no longer there to remind him that her shoes were beside the back door.

Rajveer tried to keep things familiar, making sure her uniform was ready and asking about her schoolwork even on the evenings when he looked too tired to eat. He hired someone to clean and prepare their meals in the mornings, and for the first few months he arranged as much of his work as possible around Geet’s school hours, determined that she would never come home to an empty house.

“Papa, your medicine,” Geet reminded him one evening, approaching the dining table with his tablets in one hand and a glass of water held carefully in the other.

Rajveer looked away from his laptop, frowning as he reached to take the glass before she could spill it over the papers spread around him. “Why are you bringing these, Geetu?”

“Because you forgot,” she answered, placing the tablets beside his hand and looking towards the clock. “It’s seven thirty.”

“I didn’t forget,” Rajveer replied, following her gaze before letting out a reluctant sigh. “Perhaps I forgot a little, but you were supposed to be finishing your homework.”

“Mama said you have to take them after dinner,” Geet reminded him, remaining beside his chair until he picked them up.

Rajveer’s fingers stilled for a moment, and he looked down at the tablets rather than at his daughter whilst he swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat. Simran used to leave them beside his plate, complaining that he remembered every deadline a client gave him but somehow forgot the things that concerned his own health.

“Happy now?” he asked after taking them, forcing a smile as Geet nodded and reached for the empty glass. He caught her hand before she could carry it away, drawing her against his side instead. “Leave that here, bossy little woman. Go and finish your homework.”

“I’ve finished it already,” Geet told him, slipping an arm around his neck whilst she leaned against his shoulder.

“Already?” Rajveer questioned, tilting his head to look at her. “Then go and find something else to do before I give you more sums, show-off.”

Geet smiled and kissed his cheek before hurrying towards her bedroom, leaving Rajveer watching the doorway long after she had disappeared through it.

It wasn’t the first time she had brought his medicine, nor was it the only thing she had started noticing. His crutches were always within reach because Geet moved them closer whenever he sat down and if he dropped something, she was beside him before he could work out how to retrieve it. A few days earlier, she had taken a stack of files from his hand and carried them into his study, telling him she was going that way anyway, though he knew she’d been watching television before he entered the room. He loved her for wanting to help, but it troubled him to see how closely she had begun watching him, as though she was afraid something might happen if she didn’t.

“Papa, don’t,” Geet called the following evening, putting down her pencil when he reached for his crutches.

“Don’t what?” Rajveer asked, turning towards her as he steadied himself beside the sofa.

“Your leg hurts today,” she replied, glancing down at it before looking back at him. “You keep rubbing it.”

“I was going to get some water, detective,” Rajveer explained, trying to keep his voice light even as she pushed her workbook aside and got up.

“I’ll get it for you,” Geet offered, already making her way around the coffee table before he could tell her to sit down.

“Geetu, I can get my own water,” he called after her, but she waved back at him and continued towards the kitchen, leaving him standing beside the sofa with his hands tightened around his crutches.

Later that night, Rajveer sat beside her bed and watched her sleeping with one hand tucked beneath her cheek. Her workbook lay on the bedside table, open at the page she had been completing before she’d got up to help him, and he reached to close it before gently brushing the hair from her face.

“You’re only nine,” he whispered, his fingers lingering against her temple. “You’re supposed to annoy me and ask for things, Geetu, not worry about whether I can get myself a glass of water.”

He had refused when his family first suggested returning to Delhi, unable to bear the thought of taking Geet away from her home and school so soon after losing her mother. Simran was everywhere here, in the photographs on the walls and the plants near the kitchen window, and he’d thought that keeping their daughter amongst those familiar things would help them both.

For a while, he had believed he could manage, but the work he’d postponed was beginning to demand his attention. There were meetings he could no longer put off, site visits that required more than a few hours away and projects that meant travelling, whilst even an ordinary working day sometimes left him struggling by the time Geet returned from school.

He could arrange more help at home, and he had already considered it, but that wouldn’t give her someone to chatter to the way she once had with Simran. Nor would it stop her watching his face before asking whether they could go somewhere, deciding for herself that he was too tired before he’d even had the chance to answer.

Rajveer drew the blanket over her shoulder and remained beside her a little longer, wishing Simran were there to tell him what to do.

“You want to send her to Delhi?” Rajinder questioned over the phone the following evening, and Rajveer glanced towards Geet’s closed bedroom door before lowering his voice.

“I don’t want to send her anywhere, bhai,” he answered, shifting his aching leg into a more comfortable position. “If it were about what I wanted, she’d stay here with me.”

“Then let her stay,” Rajinder replied. “We can work something out, Rajveer. You don’t have to decide this now.”

“I’ve been trying to work something out for months” Rajveer admitted, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I thought I was managing, but she’s started looking after me, and I don’t know how to stop her without making her think she’s done something wrong.”

“She’s your daughter,” Rajinder responded gently. “Of course she’ll want to help you.”

“She’s nine, Bhai,” Rajveer reminded him, his voice tightening as he looked towards her room again. “She watches the clock for my medication, carries my files when she sees me struggling and won’t ask to go anywhere if she thinks I’m having a bad day. Yesterday, she wouldn’t let me walk to the kitchen because she’d noticed my leg was hurting.”

Rajinder remained quiet as his brother paused, giving him time to continue.

“I’m her father, and she’s worrying about me before she thinks about herself,” Rajveer said, lowering his gaze to the hand resting on his knee. “Simran would hate that, and I can’t keep pretending it’ll settle down when every week there’s something else she’s decided she should do for me.”

“What would you like us to do?” Rajinder asked after a moment, his voice softer now.

“I want her to come to Delhi,” Rajveer answered, making himself say the words before he could change his mind. “To stay with you, Sukhmani bhabhi and Ma, where she’ll have people around her even when I have to travel.”

“Of course she can stay with us,” Rajinder assured him, though Rajveer was already reaching for the figures he’d written down earlier.

“I’ll cover everything,” he explained quickly. “Her school fees, clothes, food, anything she wants to join… I’ll transfer more than enough each month, and if there’s anything extra, you only have to tell me. I’ll visit as often as I can” he promised.

“Rajveer, stop talking about money,” Rajinder interrupted, frowning at the way his brother was rushing through the arrangements. “She’s my niece.”

“I know that, Bhai, but I don’t want her becoming an expense for you,” Rajveer replied. “You have your own responsibilities, and I’m asking you to take on mine.”

“You’re asking your brother to look after your daughter” Rajinder corrected firmly. “You don’t need to explain what you’ll pay for as though we’re strangers.”

Rajveer leaned back against the sofa, looking towards the photograph of Simran on the shelf whilst Rajinder continued.

“She’ll have Lavanya, and Ma asks about her every day,” his brother reminded him. “Sukhmani will be here when she comes home from school, and you know how happy they’ll all be to have her.”

“That’s what I want for her,” Rajveer murmured, his eyes remaining on his wife’s smiling face. “I want her to come home and think about playing, or complain because someone’s made her do her homework. I don’t want the first thing she asks to be whether I’ve taken my medicine.”

“Then bring her here,” Rajinder replied. “We’ll take care of her, and you can concentrate on getting things settled at your end”

“Like your own? You will love her and keep like your own, bhai?” Rajveer asked quietly, hating that he needed to hear the assurance but unable to leave it unsaid.

“Like my own, I promise” Rajinder promised without hesitation, and Rajveer closed his eyes as he breathed out, allowing himself to believe that he had found somewhere his daughter would be loved as she was at home.

The following morning, Geet stood in front of him with her schoolbag hanging from one shoulder, staring at him as though she was waiting for him to tell her she had misunderstood.

“You’re sending me away?” she asked, her fingers tightening around the strap whilst Rajveer reached towards her.

“No, Geetu, that isn’t what I’m saying. Come here,” he urged, but she remained where she was, looking down at the carpet instead of taking his hand.

“Did I do something?” Geet questioned, lifting her eyes to his face when he went quiet. “Something bad?”

“Why would you think that?” Rajveer asked, his chest tightening as he reached for his crutches, wanting to go to her rather than make her cross the room. Before he could take hold of them, Geet had already stepped forward and lifted them towards him, and the sight of her doing it so readily made his throat ache.

He left the crutches where they were and caught her hand instead, drawing her gently between his knees.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he assured her, cupping her face so she would look at him. “I need you to understand that, Geetu. Nothing about this is because you’ve been bad.”

“Then why can’t I stay with you?” she asked, her voice trembling despite the effort she was making to keep it steady.

Rajveer brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, struggling to find an answer that wouldn’t make her feel unwanted.

“Because Papa isn’t doing a very good job at being both Mama and Papa,” he said at last, trying to smile when she immediately shook her head.

“You are,” Geet insisted, placing her hands over his wrists. “I don’t mind, Papa. I can help you.”

Rajveer pulled her against him before she could see his expression change, pressing his lips to her hair whilst her arms slipped around his neck.

“I know you can help,” he murmured, holding her close. “But you don’t have to take Mama’s place, Geetu. I want you to go to school and make friends, and when you come home, I want you to think about what you’d like to do.”

“I do think about that,” Geet replied against his shoulder, though he felt her hold tighten as he stroked her back.

“Then you should be asking me for ridiculous things and arguing when I say no,” Rajveer told her, easing back enough to see her face. “You can fight with Lavanya and irritate Dadima, and I’m sure there are plenty of things you can ask Chachu to buy.”

“I don’t ask for ridiculous things,” Geet protested, rubbing beneath her nose with the back of her hand whilst he reached for a tissue.

“You asked for a telescope last month,” Rajveer reminded her, gently wiping her face.

“Because I need one,” she answered, looking at him with enough seriousness that he couldn’t help smiling.

“For what, meri jaan?” he asked, smoothing her hair behind her ear as she gave him a puzzled look.

“To look at space, Papa. What else would I do with it?” Geet replied, and the small laugh that escaped him brought a hesitant smile to her own face.

“That’s what I mean,” Rajveer told her, drawing her closer again. “I want you worrying about which stars you’re going to look at, and you can leave my medicines to me.”

Geet played with the edge of his collar for a moment before looking up at him. “Will you come to see me?”

“As often as I can,” he promised, covering her hand with his.

“Will you call every day?” she asked, studying his face until he nodded. “Morning and night?”

“Morning and night,” Rajveer agreed. “You can tell me everything you’ve done, even the things you’re not supposed to have done.”

“And if I want to come home?” Geet questioned, her fingers tightening against his shirt.

“This will always be your home,” Rajveer assured her, brushing beneath her eye before the tear gathering there could fall. “Going to Delhi doesn’t change that, and you can always tell me if you’re unhappy. Chachu and Chachi will be there, and you’ll have your Dadima and Lavanya with you too.”

Geet nodded slowly, though she didn’t move away when he loosened his arms.

“And you ask for whatever you need,” Rajveer continued, wanting her to be certain of that much. “If you need books or clothes, you tell Chachi, and if there’s something you want to do at school, you tell her that as well. Papa will send money for everything, so there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

When she nodded again, he tilted his head to catch her gaze.

“Use your words, Geetu. Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, Papa,” she answered, and Rajveer kissed her forehead before holding her against him for a few moments longer, wishing the decision felt as sensible with her in his arms as it had when he’d spoken to his brother.

A week later, Geet stood beside him at the entrance of Rajinder’s home in Delhi, her fingers curled around his hand whilst he balanced carefully on his other crutch. She had been quiet for most of the journey, asking twice how long he was staying, and Rajveer had been preparing to reassure her again when Jasmeen appeared at the door.

“My Geetu,” her grandmother exclaimed, opening her arms as Geet finally released her father’s hand and stepped into them. Jasmeen bent to kiss both her cheeks before holding her at arm’s length, looking her over with a frown. “You’ve become thinner. Rajveer, do you not feed my granddaughter?”

“Dadima, I’ve just eaten,” Geet protested, giggling when Jasmeen kissed her again before she could turn her face away.

“Then you can eat a little more,” Jasmeen decided, keeping an arm around her as Rajinder approached his brother and took the bag resting beside his feet.

“Come in before Ma starts on you properly,” Rajinder murmured, smiling as he stepped aside to give Rajveer room.

“Geet!” Lavanya called from the stairs, hurrying down to wrap her arms around her cousin before Jasmeen had finished asking what she’d eaten. “I’ve been waiting all morning. Come upstairs, I want to show you something.”

“Let her come inside first,” Sukhmani told her daughter as she joined them, greeting Rajveer before looking towards Geet with a welcoming smile. “I’ve made everything you like, so don’t let Lavanya keep you upstairs when I call you to eat.”

“Paneer?” Geet asked, glancing towards the kitchen with an interest Rajveer hadn’t seen during the journey.

“And gulab jamun and kheer” Sukhmani replied, reaching to straighten the collar of Geet’s dress. “Your Chachu went out specially to get them.”

Rajveer watched Geet turn towards his brother with a bright smile, and some of the tension he’d carried all the way to Delhi began to ease. By the time Lavanya took her hand and started telling her what she’d missed at school, Geet was answering with stories of her own, allowing herself to be led inside whilst Jasmeen followed them, still insisting that they should eat before doing anything else.

Later that evening, Rajveer sat with Rajinder and Sukhmani whilst the girls unpacked upstairs with their grandmother. Geet had already come down once to tell him that Lavanya had cleared a drawer for her things, and he kept looking towards the staircase, listening for her footsteps even after she returned to her cousin.

“I’ve transferred the money into your account, bhabhi” he explained, bringing his attention back to Sukhmani. “There’s enough for the next few months, including anything she needs for school, but please tell me if there’s something I haven’t thought of.”

“You really don’t have to keep talking about money,” Sukhmani replied, setting his tea in front of him. “Have your tea, Rajveer. You’ve barely sat down since you arrived.”

“I know I’ve said it already,” he acknowledged, reaching for the cup, “but she’s my responsibility, and I don’t want either of you hesitating to get her something because you think you should ask me first.”

“She’s our family too,” Rajinder reminded him, leaning forward to move the plate of biscuits within his reach. “You’ve seen her today. She’s already settled in with Lavanya.”

Rajveer nodded, relieved by that himself, though there was still something he needed them to understand.

“Just don’t let her worry about anything please” he asked. “If she needs something, buy it, and if she wants something reasonable, let her have it. Simran and I never really stopped her from getting anything as long as it was within reason, and I don’t want her thinking she has to go without anything because she’s living here.”

“Rajveer, we’ll take care of her,” Sukhmani assured him, her smile patient as she settled beside her husband. “If there’s anything she needs, I’ll make sure she has it.”

Before he could respond, Geet’s laughter travelled down the stairs, followed by Lavanya protesting about something and Jasmeen telling them both to be careful. Rajveer looked towards the sound, his fingers relaxing around his cup as he listened to his daughter trying to explain herself between giggles.

It had been so long since he’d heard her laugh without looking towards him afterwards, as though she needed to check that he was all right before she could enjoy herself. Here, with her grandmother fussing over her and Lavanya keeping her occupied, perhaps she would stop feeling that she had to watch over him.

“She’ll be all right,” Rajinder said, noticing where his attention had gone, and Rajveer nodded as he turned back to his brother, grateful enough that he couldn’t quite put it into words.

“We will take her of her, she’s with us now” Sukhmani added with a soft smile.

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Chapter 1 - Scroll up

Chapter 2 - Scroll down

Chapter 3 - Scroll down

Chapter 4 - Scroll down

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 2: Learning Not to Ask

“Dadima, Lavanya took my hairbrush!” Geet called as she searched beneath the school cardigan lying on her bed, certain she had left it there the previous evening. She lifted her pillow to check before turning towards her cousin, who was standing in front of the mirror fastening her earrings.

“I did not,” Lavanya replied, meeting Geet’s eyes through the reflection before quickly looking away when Geet spotted the pink brush beside her elbow.

“Then how did it get over there?” Geet questioned, walking across the bedroom and picking it up. “It was on my bed yesterday, and now it’s on your table.”

“That doesn’t mean I took it,” Lavanya responded, leaning closer to the mirror whilst Geet stared at her in disbelief.

“Did it grow legs and walk over here?” Geet asked, holding the brush towards her, though Lavanya only shrugged as she reached for her other earring.

“Maybe it did,” she answered, smiling at her reflection when Geet rolled her eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” Geet complained, turning away with her brush held firmly against her chest.

“You’re more annoying,” Lavanya replied, and Geet had already opened her mouth to argue when Jasmeen appeared in the doorway, leaning on the walking stick she used whenever her knees were troubling her.

“Both of you are annoying,” their grandmother informed them, making her way towards Geet’s bed. “It is seven thirty in the morning, and I’m sure the entire neighbourhood knows somebody has stolen a hairbrush.”

“She took it, Dadima,” Geet insisted, approaching her grandmother as Jasmeen carefully lowered herself onto the edge of the mattress.

“I borrowed it,” Lavanya corrected, turning away from the mirror now that she had finished. “There’s a difference.”

“You didn’t ask me,” Geet reminded her, looking towards Jasmeen for support whilst Lavanya picked up her cardigan.

“Because you were sleeping,” Lavanya explained, pushing one arm into a sleeve. “And when you woke up, I was already using it.”

Geet frowned as she considered that answer, certain there was something wrong with it but unable to explain before Jasmeen chuckled and held out her hand.

“Come here before you miss the bus arguing over something neither of you will remember this afternoon,” she told Geet, taking the brush and gently turning her granddaughter around. “Where is your hairband?”

Geet slipped it from her wrist and handed it over, standing between Jasmeen’s knees whilst her grandmother worked through the tangles at the ends of her hair. She liked having Dadima do it because she never pulled too hard, and if Geet complained, she stopped to loosen the knot with her fingers before trying again.

“Where is Chachi?” Geet asked, tilting her head when Jasmeen gathered her hair.

“Downstairs making breakfast,” Jasmeen answered, smoothing a few strands into place before securing the ponytail.

“Can I have aloo paratha?” Geet questioned, already thinking about the butter melting over the top, and Jasmeen smiled as she gave her shoulder a gentle pat.

“Go and ask her, but put your cardigan on first,” she instructed, watching Geet retrieve it from the bed before hurrying towards the door.

Sukhmani was placing toast onto a plate when Geet entered the kitchen, and she glanced over her shoulder as her niece approached the counter.

“Chachi, can I have aloo paratha for breakfast?” Geet asked, standing on her toes to see what else had been prepared.

“Now?” Sukhmani questioned, looking towards the clock before turning back to her. “I’ve already made toast and eggs, beta. You can have paratha tomorrow.”

“Oh… okay,” Geet replied, reaching towards the plate nearest to her, but Sukhmani pointed to another slice before she could take it.

“Have that one. Lavanya likes hers a little darker,” she explained, and Geet exchanged the pieces without complaint before carrying her plate to the table.

It had been three weeks since Papa had returned home, and although Geet no longer cried every night, she still found herself reaching for the phone before it was time for him to call. During the first few nights, she had pressed her face into her pillow so Lavanya wouldn’t hear her, missing the sound of her father moving around outside her bedroom and the way he always came in to check on her before going to bed himself.

Being in Delhi had become easier as she learnt where things belonged and grew used to the new school, and there were enough people around that she rarely had to sit alone. Dadima liked having her company in the afternoons, Lavanya always had something to tell her, and Chachu made jokes at dinner that were so terrible even he laughed before finishing them. Sometimes he slipped a chocolate into her hand when Sukhmani wasn’t looking, telling her that every child needed an uncle whose main purpose was ruining their teeth.

Chachi was kind too, reminding her to take her lunchbox and checking that her uniform was ready each evening. She didn’t do things the way Mama had, but Geet knew it would be unfair to expect that of her when nobody could ever be Mama.

“Girls, hurry up,” Sukhmani called as she brought the remaining plates to the table. “Your bus will be here soon.”

Lavanya came in carrying her shoes and dropped into the chair beside Geet, only to frown when she saw her breakfast.

“Mama, I don’t want eggs,” she complained, pushing the plate away whilst Sukhmani turned towards her.

“You asked for eggs yesterday,” her mother reminded her, reaching to move the plate back before it knocked against the serving bowl.

“I wanted them yesterday,” Lavanya replied, bending to put on one of her shoes. “Can I have cereal?”

“Lavanya, you’ll miss the bus if you keep changing your mind,” Sukhmani said, though when her daughter looked at the eggs again and wrinkled her nose, she let out a sigh and picked up the plate. “Fine, put your shoes on properly whilst I get it.”

Geet watched her aunt carry the breakfast back towards the kitchen, then glanced at her own plate before speaking.

“Chachi, can I have cereal too?” she asked, holding her toast above the eggs she had been about to eat.

Sukhmani paused with her hand resting on the back of an empty chair, looking down at Geet’s plate before meeting her eyes.

“I’ve already made your breakfast, beta,” she reminded her, her voice still gentle.

“I know, but I thought…” Geet began, glancing towards the bowl Sukhmani had taken from the cupboard.

“Food shouldn’t be wasted,” Sukhmani continued, giving her a small smile. “Your Papa works very hard to make sure you have everything you need. We shouldn’t waste things unnecessarily, should we?”

Geet lowered the toast onto her plate, feeling suddenly uncomfortable beneath her aunt’s patient gaze.

“No, Chachi,” she answered, picking up her fork whilst Sukhmani nodded approvingly.

“Good girl. Finish that before the bus comes,” she told her, returning to the kitchen to prepare Lavanya’s cereal.

Geet took a mouthful of eggs and looked towards her cousin, who was struggling with a knot in her shoelace. She liked eggs, and she had already started eating them, so there was no reason to ask again when Chachi had explained why she shouldn’t. By the time Lavanya’s bowl arrived, Geet had almost finished, and she concentrated on the last piece of toast rather than the cereal she’d wanted.

That evening, she was sitting on Jasmeen’s bed when the phone rang, and she snatched it up quickly enough to make her grandmother laugh.

“Papa!” Geet exclaimed, pressing it to her ear as she tucked her legs beneath her.

“Have some mercy on your father, Geetu,” Rajveer responded, moving the phone slightly away before bringing it back. “I still need my hearing, and you seem determined to take that from me.”

“You called late,” Geet informed him, smiling as she settled against the pillows.

“I am exactly four minutes late,” Rajveer replied, looking towards his watch whilst she shook her head despite knowing he couldn’t see her.

“Six minutes, Papa. I checked,” she corrected, watching Jasmeen pick up another shirt from the pile of washing beside her.

“Then we’ll agree on five before you send me a bill,” he suggested, making Geet giggle as she drew one of her grandmother’s cushions into her lap. “Tell me about school. Did you get your spelling test back?”

“I got ten out of ten,” Geet announced, sitting a little straighter even though he wasn’t there to see how pleased she was.

“Only ten?” Rajveer questioned, sounding disappointed enough that she immediately protested.

“Papa, it was out of ten,” she reminded him, looking towards Jasmeen when her grandmother smiled at the familiar complaint.

“I expected eleven, but I suppose we’ll have to accept it,” Rajveer replied, laughing when Geet told him he was being ridiculous. “What else did you do?”

“I got picked for the science project,” she told him, forgetting the spelling test as she reached for the notebook beside her. “I’m making the solar system, and we have to explain it to the other classes when they come to look.”

“Another space thing?” Rajveer groaned, leaning back in his chair whilst she opened the page where she had drawn her plan. “Geetu, can we not study something a little closer to home?”

“You haven’t even heard what I’m doing yet,” she complained, and when he assured her he was listening, she began explaining how she intended to make the planets, pausing only to correct herself when she reached Saturn’s rings.

Rajveer listened whilst she worked through the details, asking questions whenever she stopped for breath and smiling at the seriousness with which she considered his suggestions.

“I need coloured card and glue,” Geet finished, checking the small list she had written beneath her drawing. “And those little foam balls, because then I can paint them.”

“Then get whatever you need,” Rajveer told her. “Ask Chachi to help you find the right sizes.”

“Even the big ones?” Geet asked, tracing the circle she had drawn for Jupiter.

“Even the big ones,” he confirmed, smiling at her excitement. “I’ve already sent your expenses for this month, and you don’t need to ask me before buying things for school, Geetu.”

“I know, Papa,” she replied, closing the notebook once he had made her promise to show him the finished project.

After the call, Geet hurried downstairs with her list, finding Sukhmani at the dining table with a notebook open in front of her and several receipts spread beside it.

“Chachi, I need some things for my science project,” she announced, placing her own notebook on the table as Sukhmani looked up.

“What things?” her aunt asked, keeping one finger against the line she had been reading.

“Coloured card, glue and foam balls, because I’m making the solar system, and Papa said I can get the bigger ones too,” Geet explained, turning the page towards her.

“Slow down, beta,” Sukhmani replied with a small laugh. “How much will all of that cost?”

Geet glanced at the list, realising she hadn’t thought to ask her father that part.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking back at her aunt.

Sukhmani drew her notebook a little closer and lowered her eyes to the figures in front of her.

“You’ve needed quite a few things this month already,” she remarked, moving her finger down the page. “Your school shoes, the notebooks, that new water bottle…”

“My old bottle broke,” Geet explained quickly, remembering how it had fallen from the side pocket of her bag.

“I know it did. I’m not blaming you,” Sukhmani assured her, smiling as though Geet had misunderstood. “I’m only saying these things add up.”

Geet looked at the open notebook, following the rows of numbers beside words she recognised. Groceries and electricity were written near the top, with school a little further down, and beneath those she noticed her own name. There were several smaller entries underneath it, including her shoes and water bottle, and the medicine Chachi had bought when she’d had a cough.

She hadn’t realised those things were being written down, and she leaned a little closer before Sukhmani noticed where she was looking and closed the book.

“Your Papa sends money for you, but he works very hard for it,” her aunt explained, resting her palm on the cover. “We shouldn’t trouble him every time we want something.”

“But Papa said I could get it,” Geet replied, her excitement fading as she looked down at the drawing she had been so eager to show her.

“Your Papa would give you the entire world if you asked him,” Sukhmani told her gently. “That doesn’t mean you should ask him for the entire world, does it?”

Geet pressed her fingers against the corner of her notebook, unsure how the things on her list had become so much when she’d only wanted to make the project properly.

“I only need it for school,” she murmured, and Sukhmani’s expression softened as she reached to touch her arm.

“Of course you do, beta. I’ll get it,” she assured her, but Geet was already looking at the round shapes on the page and wondering whether she could make them another way.

“It’s okay, Chachi. I can use paper,” she replied, closing her notebook before her aunt could look at the list again.

“You wanted coloured card,” Sukhmani reminded her, watching as Geet held the book against herself.

“Paper will be fine,” Geet said, trying to sound certain, and after a moment her aunt nodded.

“If you’re sure, then use what we have,” Sukhmani agreed, turning back to the receipts as Geet left the table.

Later, Geet sat at her desk with some old newspaper, pressing and turning it between her palms until it began to resemble the shape she needed. It took several attempts to stop Saturn from unfolding, and she had to hold the tape in place whilst reaching for another piece, but by bedtime she had managed to make something she thought she could paint.When Dadima asked how the project was going, Geet held it up and smiled, pleased that she had found a way to do it without needing anything else.

Two months later, Rajveer came to Delhi, and for three days before his arrival Geet reminded everyone often enough that Lavanya began answering before she’d finished speaking.

“Papa’s coming at four,” Geet announced, leaving the window to check the clock again whilst her cousin lay across the bed with a book.

“I know, Geet,” Lavanya replied, turning a page. “You told me ten minutes ago.”

“He might come earlier,” Geet added, moving back towards the window even though there was still plenty of time.

“You said that too,” Lavanya reminded her, looking up when Geet pressed her palms against the glass.

“His train might be fast,” Geet reasoned, watching a car turn into the road.

“That’s not how trains work,” Lavanya responded, but Geet had already lost interest in the argument and was trying to see who was sitting inside the car.

When Sukhmani called her from downstairs, she hurried out of the room so quickly that Lavanya called after her to stop running.

“Is Papa here?” Geet asked as she entered the kitchen, looking past her aunt towards the front door.

“Not yet. Come here for a moment,” Sukhmani said, wiping her hands before lifting a shopping bag from the chair beside her. “These are for you.”

Geet took the bag and looked inside, her eyes widening as she pulled out a yellow dress with a pair of sandals beneath it.

“For me?” she questioned, holding the dress against herself whilst Sukhmani smiled.

“Of course it’s for you. Go and change before your Papa arrives,” her aunt told her, reaching to straighten the fabric so Geet could see it properly.

“It’s so pretty,” Geet murmured, running her fingers over the skirt before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Sukhmani’s waist. “Thank you, Chachi.”

Sukhmani patted her back and sent her upstairs, and by the time the car finally stopped outside, Geet was waiting near the entrance in her new clothes.

“Papa!” she called, rushing towards him as Rajinder took his bag, and Rajveer had only just steadied himself before she reached him.

“Careful, Geet,” Rajinder cautioned, placing a hand behind his brother’s arm whilst Rajveer shifted his weight and gathered his daughter close with his free hand.

“My baby,” Rajveer murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she held tightly to his waist. He had intended to tease her about waiting outside, but for a moment all he wanted was to keep her against him, relieved to feel her small arms around him again.

“You took forever,” Geet complained, lifting her face towards his whilst he kissed her once more.

“I came from Chandigarh, not downstairs,” Rajveer reminded her, smiling when she glanced pointedly towards the clock visible through the open doorway.

“You said four, Papa, and it’s four ten,” she informed him, making Rajinder laugh as he carried the bag inside.

“I missed you too, Geetu,” Rajveer replied, waiting whilst she reluctantly loosened her hold enough for him to walk.

She remained beside him as they entered, asking about the journey and whether he had eaten before telling him that Dadima had been waiting too. Rajveer barely had time to answer one question before she remembered another, and he was still smiling when Sukhmani came to greet him.

“Look at you,” he said once he was seated, taking Geet’s hand as she turned to show him the dress. “Have you been shopping?”

“Chachi bought it for me,” Geet explained, lifting the edge of the skirt before pointing to her sandals.

“She needed a few new things,” Sukhmani replied, watching them from beside the sofa. “She’s growing so quickly.”

“Get her whatever she needs,” Rajveer told her gratefully, drawing Geet to his side. “You know you don’t have to wait for me.”

“She never asks for anything,” Sukhmani remarked, resting her hand against Geet’s cheek. “Honestly, Rajveer, she’s the easiest child.”

“That can’t be my daughter,” Rajveer responded, looking down at Geet with exaggerated suspicion whilst she protested and pushed at his arm.

“Papa, I am,” she insisted, laughing when he pretended to inspect her face, and the others joined in whilst Sukhmani went to bring the food.

At the table, Geet took the chair beside him and talked through most of the meal, telling him about her teachers and a girl who tried to look at other people’s answers during spelling tests. Rajveer listened whilst serving himself, occasionally reminding her to eat before she started another story.

“What happened with your science project?” he asked when she finally paused to take a mouthful. “You told me the results, but I still haven’t seen what you made.”

“I came second,” Geet reminded him, reaching for her water whilst he turned towards her in dismay.

“Second? Geetu, how am I supposed to show my face anywhere?” Rajveer questioned, making her giggle as she leaned against his arm.

“Papa, there were lots of projects,” she explained, and he smiled before asking about the planets.

“Did you paint those foam balls yourself?” he questioned, tearing a piece from his paratha.

Geet lowered her glass, looking at the food on her plate before answering.

“I used newspaper instead,” she told him, and Rajveer paused as he recalled how carefully she had described the things she wanted.

“Why? I thought you wanted the foam ones,” he asked, turning towards her.

Geet glanced briefly at Sukhmani, who was reaching for the basket of parathas, before looking back at her father.

“The newspaper ones were easier,” she replied, picking up her fork.

“Eat properly, beta,” Sukhmani said, placing another paratha on Geet’s plate. “You’ve spent so much time talking to Papa that you’ve barely eaten.”

“I’ve eaten lots, Chachi,” Geet assured her, but Sukhmani only smiled and told her to have a little more.

Rajveer watched the exchange, letting the question about the project go as Geet began explaining what the child who had come first had made. She looked well, and she was comfortable enough to talk over everyone, whilst Sukhmani was watching her plate with the same concern his mother had shown since he arrived.

Across the table, Jasmeen reminded Geet to tell him about the certificate she had brought home, and Rajveer felt himself relax. He had spent the journey wondering whether his daughter would seem different, whether there would be something in her face that told him she was unhappy, but here she was beside him with so much to say that she could hardly decide where to begin.

For the four days he stayed, Geet woke early to have breakfast with him and carried her books into whichever room he was using, promising she wouldn’t disturb his work before remembering something she urgently needed to tell him. Rajveer teasingly complained whenever she interrupted, though he always turned away from his laptop to listen, and she soon learnt that if she stood beside him long enough, he would make room for her on the sofa.

On their outings, she asked for ice cream and another book, explaining that she had already finished the one he’d sent, and Rajveer let her choose whilst pretending to be troubled by how expensive her company was becoming.

The glitter pens required more convincing, mostly because he enjoyed watching her make her case.

“You have perfectly good pens at home,” Rajveer reminded her as she stood beside him in the shop, holding the packet where he could see it.

“But these have glitter in them,” Geet explained, turning it over to show him the colours.

“I can see that, and it’s a ridiculous thing to put in a pen,” he replied, trying not to smile when she looked offended on their behalf.

“Please, Papa. I can use them for my headings,” she suggested, moving a little closer as he shook his head.

“You can use your blue pen for your headings,” Rajveer countered, and she rested her hand on his arm before asking again, this time adding that she would share them with Lavanya.

By the time they reached the counter, the packet was amongst the things he was buying, and Geet was smiling so widely that he told her she had better put them to good use.

“Rajveer, you spoil her,” Sukhmani remarked later when Geet showed everyone what they had bought, laughing as her niece sat beside her father with the new book in her lap.

“She’s my daughter,” Rajveer replied, looking towards Geet when she hugged his arm.

“She’ll become impossible if you keep giving in,” Sukhmani warned, though her tone remained affectionate.

“Too late for that,” Rajveer answered, earning a protest from Geet as he reached to ruffle her hair.

On the fifth morning, Geet stood beside Rajinder whilst her father settled into the car, watching him grip the door frame as he carefully moved his leg inside. She waited until he was comfortable before stepping closer, holding her hands together because she wanted to hug him again and knew he would have to lean forward.

“I’ll call tonight,” Rajveer promised, noticing the way she was looking at him. “At the proper time, before you start counting.”

“Will you come next month?” Geet asked, her attempt at a smile fading when he hesitated.

“I’ll try, Geetu,” he answered, reaching towards her through the open door. “I need to see what happens with work first.”

“I know,” she replied, placing her hand in his. “You’re busy.”

Rajveer rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, wishing he could give her the answer she wanted without risking another disappointment.

“I love you,” he told her, holding her gaze until she nodded.

“I love you too, Papa,” Geet responded, stepping back only when Rajinder gently touched her shoulder.

She watched the car until it turned out of the road, remaining beside her uncle for a few moments afterwards before he guided her towards the house.

“Come on, beta,” Rajinder said, squeezing her shoulder. “He’ll call before you know it.”

Inside, Geet noticed the glitter pens on the dining table where she had left them beside her book, and she reached for the packet, remembering that she hadn’t tried the purple one yet.

“Geet,” Sukhmani called, pausing as she gathered the breakfast dishes.

Geet turned towards her, holding the pens in both hands whilst her aunt glanced at them.

“Your Papa really does spoil you,” Sukhmani remarked, carrying the plates towards the kitchen counter.

“He bought them for me,” Geet replied, looking down at the packet, unsure whether she was being asked to put it away.

“I can see that,” Sukhmani answered, returning to the table and picking up the remaining glass. When Geet stayed where she was, her aunt set it down again and let out a small sigh. “Don’t misunderstand me, beta. Your Papa loves you very much, but he already has so much to manage.”

Geet’s fingers moved against the edge of the packaging whilst she waited for Sukhmani to continue.

“His work, travelling and his health… things take more out of him,” her aunt explained gently. “And when he comes here, you ask him for this and that because you know he finds it difficult to refuse you.”

“I only asked for pens,” Geet said, her voice quieter now.

“And ice cream, and a book,” Sukhmani reminded her, without raising her voice. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting things, but you’re old enough to think about Papa too. He works so hard because he wants to give you everything.”

Geet looked towards the front door, remembering how he had held on to the car whilst getting inside. The previous evening, she had seen him rubbing his leg when he thought she was reading, and he’d smiled when she looked up, telling her to carry on with her story.

“I didn’t mean to make him work harder,” she murmured, looking back at her aunt.

“I know you didn’t,” Sukhmani assured her, smoothing a hand over her hair. “You’re a good girl, Geet. I’m only explaining so you understand.”

Geet lowered her eyes to the pens, unable to feel the same excitement she had in the shop. Papa had said no at first, and she had kept asking because she’d thought he was teasing, but now she wondered whether she should have listened. She already had pens upstairs, and there had been nothing wrong with them before she saw these.

“Chachi, can you return them?” she asked, holding out the unopened packet.

Sukhmani looked down at it before meeting her eyes. “Your Papa bought those for you, beta.”

“I don’t need them,” Geet replied, keeping her arm extended.

“You wanted them yesterday,” Sukhmani pointed out, giving her a moment to reconsider.

Geet shook her head, remembering the way her father had carefully lifted his leg into the car.

“I don’t want them anymore,” she said, and Sukhmani studied her face before accepting the packet.

“All right, if that’s what you want,” her aunt agreed, setting it aside whilst Geet picked up her book and went upstairs.

That evening, Rajveer called at the time he had promised, and despite everything she had been thinking, Geet smiled as soon as she heard his voice.

“How’s my favourite person?” he asked, settling back in his chair whilst she sat at the small desk in her bedroom.

“Good,” Geet replied, moving her homework aside. “Did you get home?”

“I did, and nobody has interrupted me for the last hour, so I’m not sure what to do with myself,” Rajveer told her, pleased when she laughed. “Have you used those ridiculous glitter pens yet?”

Geet looked towards the ordinary blue pen lying beside her workbook and touched it with one finger.

“No, Papa,” she answered, hoping he would ask about something else.

“Why not? You spent long enough convincing me you needed them,” he reminded her, his voice still amused.

“I changed my mind,” Geet said, rolling the blue pen gently beneath her palm.

“That quickly?” Rajveer questioned with a chuckle, but Geet was thinking about the notebook Chachi had closed and all the things written beneath her name.

“Papa, do I cost you lots of money?” she asked before she lost the courage, holding the pen still whilst she waited.

Rajveer’s smile faded, and he shifted in his chair, wondering whether he had heard her properly.

“Where has that come from, Geetu?” he questioned, keeping his voice calm.

“Nowhere. I was just asking,” Geet replied quickly, wishing she hadn’t said it when he sounded concerned.

“You don’t need to worry about money,” Rajveer told her. “That’s something for me to think about, not you.”

“But your work is hard,” she persisted, looking towards the doorway to make sure nobody was there.

“Some days are harder than others,” he answered, trying to understand what had prompted the question. “That doesn’t mean you have to worry about it.”

“And travelling makes your leg hurt,” Geet added, remembering him at the car again.

“Sometimes it does,” Rajveer acknowledged, his expression softening as he realised she must have noticed that morning. “But I’m home now, and I’ve had a rest.”

Geet rubbed her thumb against a small mark on the desk, wanting to believe that meant everything was all right, though it didn’t change what Chachi had explained.

“I can stop asking for things,” she offered quietly. “I’ve already got lots.”

Rajveer sat forward, the tiredness of the journey forgotten as he heard the careful way she said it.

“No, Geetu,” he replied firmly. “That isn’t something I want you to do.”

“But if I don’t need them…” she began, only for him to gently interrupt.

“Listen to me, meri jaan. If you need something, you ask, and if you want something, you can ask for that too,” Rajveer told her. “I might say no, especially when you decide you need half a stationery shop, but you don’t have to make that decision for me.”

Geet smiled faintly, turning the pen between her fingers whilst he continued.

“You don’t stop asking because you’re worried about my work or my leg. I can manage those things, and buying you a book doesn’t change that. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Papa,” she answered, though she was still thinking about how easily he had given in at the shop.

“Promise me,” Rajveer urged, waiting when she didn’t reply immediately.

Geet looked at the space beside her book where she had planned to keep the glitter pens, then lowered her gaze to her homework.

“Promise,” she murmured, and Rajveer eased back in his chair, reassured enough to ask what she had been doing before he called.

She told him about the sums she was finishing and the reading she had left, allowing him to tease her when she admitted that she’d rather carry on with her new book. She didn’t mention that Chachi had taken the pens to return, or the list of expenses beneath her name, because Papa had only just got home and she didn’t want him worrying about things she couldn’t properly explain.

Chachi hadn’t shouted at her or said she couldn’t have anything, and when Geet thought about repeating the conversation, she was afraid it would sound as though she was complaining about being told to consider her father.

Later that night, she went downstairs for a drink and opened the fridge, noticing one gulab jamun left in the small bowl on the shelf. She reached towards it before remembering that Lavanya hadn’t come down for dessert yet, and her hand remained near the bowl whilst she wondered whether her cousin would want it.

At home, she would have called out to Papa and asked whether they could share, knowing he would find a spoon and complain when she tried to take the larger half. Here, she looked towards the kitchen doorway, then withdrew her hand and closed the fridge quietly.

She had already eaten dinner, Geet reminded herself as she carried her water upstairs, and Lavanya might still be hungry.

Chapter 3: The Hungry Child

“Can I have the last one?” Geet asked as she reached towards the basket in the middle of the dining table, pausing with her fingers against its edge when Sukhmani glanced at the clock.

“Lavanya should be back from tuition soon,” her aunt remarked, folding the kitchen cloth beside her plate before looking towards Geet again. “Take it if you’re still hungry, beta. I can make another one when she comes home.”

Geet looked at the paratha, then towards the doorway as though her cousin might appear and answer the question for her. “Will she want it?”

“She usually comes home starving, you know what she’s like,” Sukhmani replied with a small laugh, pushing the basket closer. “But you can have it. Your Papa sends more than enough for everything you need, and I’m hardly going to tell his daughter she can’t have another paratha.”

Geet withdrew her hand, her appetite becoming difficult to separate from the uncomfortable feeling that came whenever her father’s money was mentioned. She remembered him rubbing his leg during his last visit, smiling when she asked whether it hurt before telling her to carry on with whatever she had been saying.

“I don’t want it anymore,” she murmured, reaching for her glass instead.

“Are you sure?” Sukhmani questioned, glancing at her empty plate. “You’ve had two already, haven’t you? And a biscuit when you came home?”

Geet nodded, lowering the glass whilst her aunt gathered the cloth into her hand.

“Then you’ve eaten quite well anyway,” Sukhmani assured her. “Sometimes we keep eating without realising we’re already full, and then things get wasted. Your Papa works too hard for us to be careless with what he provides.”

“I’m full,” Geet replied quietly, although she could still feel the hunger that had made her ask in the first place.

“Good girl,” Sukhmani said, lifting the basket and carrying it towards the kitchen whilst Geet remained at the table, drinking the rest of her water.

She couldn’t have explained why she felt as though she had done something wrong by reaching for the paratha. Chachi had offered it to her and even said she would make another for Lavanya, so it would have been unfair to think she hadn’t been allowed to eat it. Geet had been the one to change her mind, and as she looked at her empty plate, she tried to convince herself that perhaps she only needed to wait for her stomach to realise she had eaten enough.

Nearly a year had passed since she had come to Delhi, and at ten she knew the household routine well enough to get through most days without asking what she should do. She went to school with Lavanya, completed her homework before dinner and usually took a book into Dadima’s room whenever she had time to herself. Jasmeen liked having her there, and Geet liked being able to climb onto the bed without explaining whether she wanted company or simply somewhere to sit.

Papa still called most evenings, and whenever he arranged a visit, she marked the date beside her bed and counted towards it, reminding Lavanya often enough that her cousin threatened to hide the calendar. Geet continued counting anyway, sometimes working out the hours when the visit was close enough, eager to hear his voice in the house instead of through a telephone.

Between those visits, she had become better at making things last. When Chachi turned through her notebook and pointed out the unused pages, Geet found places to fit the work she had thought needed a new book. When her pencil became difficult to hold, she wrapped tape around the end and kept using it, telling herself there was no reason to replace something that still worked.

Sukhmani often said she would buy whatever Geet needed, but by the time they finished discussing it, Geet usually discovered she could manage without it. She felt pleased whenever her aunt called her sensible, particularly when it meant there was nothing else to add beneath her name in the household notebook.

“Geet, are you listening?” Lavanya asked one afternoon, waving a packet of chocolates between her face and the book she had been staring at.

Geet looked up, realising she hadn’t taken in the last few lines. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted one,” Lavanya repeated, holding the packet open whilst Geet set her book aside.

She had almost reached inside when Sukhmani entered with a pile of folded clothes, looking towards the chocolates as she crossed the bedroom.

“Be careful with those whilst you’re wearing your uniforms,” she warned, placing the clothes on Lavanya’s bed. “I don’t want chocolate all down your shirts.”

Geet lowered her hand immediately, though Lavanya took another and unwrapped it without concern.

“Mama, do you want one?” Lavanya offered, speaking around the chocolate she had already put in her mouth.

“No, thank you, and finish eating before you speak,” Sukhmani replied, opening the wardrobe before looking towards Geet. “Weren’t you taking one, beta?”

“It’s okay,” Geet answered, drawing her book back onto her lap.

“Take one if you want it,” Sukhmani encouraged, arranging Lavanya’s clothes on a shelf. “Although I’m making paneer tonight, so don’t fill yourself up and then tell me you aren’t hungry at dinner.”

Geet glanced at the packet, remembering how she had gone downstairs the previous evening because her stomach hurt, only to drink some water and return to bed. She had wanted the chocolate when Lavanya offered it, but now she wasn’t certain whether eating it would mean she shouldn’t want as much dinner.

“I’ll have it later,” she decided, looking down at her book.

Sukhmani turned from the wardrobe, her expression softening as she studied her niece. “Geet, I wasn’t telling you not to eat it. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know, Chachi,” Geet replied quickly, worried that she had made her aunt think she was upset.

“Good, because you don’t need permission for every little thing,” Sukhmani told her. “Your Papa trusted us with you, and I’d feel terrible if he thought you were being treated differently from Lavanya.”

Geet managed a small smile and took a chocolate when her cousin offered the packet again, keeping it in her hand whilst she returned to her book. She meant to eat it once Chachi left, but by then she had started wondering how long it was until dinner, and when she eventually wandered into Jasmeen’s room, the wrapper had grown soft between her fingers.

“Why are you carrying that around like precious jewellery?” Jasmeen asked, lowering the television remote as Geet climbed onto the bed.

Geet looked at the chocolate, almost surprised to find she was still holding it. “I forgot about it,” she admitted, pressing it gently and feeling it give beneath her thumb. “You can have it, Dadima.”

“I have diabetes,” Jasmeen reminded her, watching Geet’s expression change.

“Oh… I forgot,” Geet murmured, beginning to pull her hand back.

“You forgot about chocolate and then forgot I have diabetes,” Jasmeen remarked, turning towards her. “Should I call a doctor, or have you been spending so much time with Lavanya that she’s worn your brain out?”

Geet laughed as she leaned against her grandmother, but Jasmeen continued studying her, noticing how quickly the amusement faded once she stopped speaking.

“What’s troubling you?” she asked, touching Geet’s cheek.

“Nothing, Dadima,” Geet answered, smoothing a crease in the wrapper.

“Don’t lie to me. Your face does something very strange when you lie,” Jasmeen informed her, making Geet lift her head in concern.

“What does it do?” she questioned, watching as Jasmeen pressed her lips together and widened her eyes until Geet burst into laughter.

“I don’t look like that,” she protested, pushing gently at her grandmother’s shoulder when Jasmeen made the expression worse.

“You look far worse, but I’m trying to be kind,” Jasmeen replied, laughing with her before drawing an arm around her shoulders.

For a few moments, Geet continued smiling against her, and Jasmeen stroked her hair, wishing it were as easy to keep that smile there as it was to bring it back. She still saw the little girl who argued over everything and asked questions until the adults ran out of answers, but lately Geet seemed to leave that part of herself in the room when she went downstairs.

“Did something happen at school?” Jasmeen asked once she had settled again.

Geet shook her head, resting the chocolate on her lap whilst her grandmother tried another question.

“Has Lavanya been annoying you?”

“She always annoys me,” Geet replied, glancing up when Jasmeen nodded gravely.

“That is her main occupation,” Jasmeen agreed, then brushed a loose strand of hair from Geet’s cheek. “Did Chachi say something?”

Geet’s fingers closed around the wrapper before she shook her head. “No, Dadima.”

Jasmeen noticed the hesitation, but before she could ask anything further, Sukhmani appeared in the doorway.

“There you are. Have you finished your homework?” she asked, resting a hand against the frame whilst Geet sat straighter.

“Yes, Chachi,” Geet answered, moving the chocolate from her lap.

“And is your uniform ready for tomorrow?” Sukhmani continued, smiling when Geet’s eyes widened. “Go and do that before you forget. We don’t want to spend the morning searching for your tie again.”

Geet slid from the bed and was turning towards the door when Jasmeen reminded her about the chocolate. She picked it up, drawing Sukhmani’s attention to the softened wrapper.

“You still haven’t eaten that?” her aunt questioned. “I thought you wanted it earlier.”

“Not anymore,” Geet replied, looking down at her hand.

“Throw it away if it’s melted too much,” Sukhmani told her. “I’ll buy another packet when this one finishes, but next time only take one when you want it, otherwise it’s a waste.”

Geet nodded and left, dropping the chocolate into the bin before going to find her uniform. Jasmeen watched her through the open doorway, remembering how readily she had reached for things when she first arrived and wondering when she had begun needing so much reassurance to accept something as small as a sweet.

A few weeks later, Rajveer arranged another visit, and Sukhmani took Geet shopping the afternoon before he was due. Geet tried to explain that her dresses still fitted, but her aunt told her that she was growing and needed a few new things, guiding her towards the children’s section whilst Geet followed.

“This one would look lovely,” Sukhmani said, lifting a yellow dress from the rail and holding it against her.

Geet’s face brightened as she touched the skirt. “It’s pretty,” she murmured, running her fingers over the fabric before reaching to take it.

“Go and try it,” Sukhmani encouraged, but Geet had noticed the tag hanging near the sleeve, and her hand slowed as she read the price.

“What happened?” her aunt asked, watching her expression. “You liked it a moment ago.”

“It’s expensive,” Geet admitted, letting the tag fall back against the dress.

“Your Papa sent the money,” Sukhmani reminded her with a soft laugh. “He tells me every month to buy whatever you need.”

“I know, but I don’t need it,” Geet replied, thinking of the clothes folded in her drawer at home.

Sukhmani lowered the dress, looking at her for a moment before sighing.

“Sometimes I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell your father,” she said. “He asks whether you have everything, and I tell him you do because I don’t want him worrying when he already has enough to manage.”

“What does he worry about?” Geet asked, looking up immediately.

“You, beta. He’s your father, and he’s far away,” Sukhmani explained. “It isn’t easy for him to keep travelling, which is why he works so hard to make sure we can provide everything here.”

Geet looked back at the dress, remembering her father’s last visit and the way he had struggled to move from his wheelchair to the sofa. He had tried to wave Chachu away before finally accepting his arm, and Geet had pretended to be busy with her book because she knew Papa didn’t like everyone watching.

“Take it if you want it,” Sukhmani said, holding the dress towards her again.

Geet glanced along the rail and noticed a simpler blue one, reaching to check its tag before pointing to it.

“I like that one,” she told her aunt.

“The blue?” Sukhmani questioned, following her gaze. “But you said the yellow was pretty.”

“I like blue more,” Geet replied, touching the sleeve whilst her aunt considered her for a moment.

“If that’s what you want,” Sukhmani agreed, returning the yellow dress to the rail.

Geet smiled as she took the blue one, relieved that she had found something she could accept without feeling quite so uncomfortable. Chachi had let her choose, and she tried to keep that in mind rather than looking back at the yellow skirt as they walked towards the fitting rooms.

The following afternoon, she was near the front door before Rajveer’s car arrived, and she hurried outside the moment she saw him. Rajinder was helping him steady himself whilst his wheelchair was folded away, and Geet waited only long enough for her father to turn before wrapping her arms around him.

“Careful, Geetu,” Rajveer laughed, accepting his brother’s support as he held her close. “At least let me get inside before you knock me over.”

“I missed you,” Geet complained, pressing her cheek against him whilst he bent to kiss her hair.

“I missed you more,” he replied, smiling when she immediately lifted her face to disagree.

“No, Papa, I missed you more,” she insisted, tightening her arms as though that proved it.

“Still arguing with me,” Rajveer remarked, kissing her forehead. “Good. I was worried Delhi might have made you sensible.”

Geet grinned and took the small bag Rajinder had set down, ignoring her father’s instruction to leave it whilst she walked beside him into the house. She had so much to tell him that she began before he sat down, and by the time Sukhmani brought his tea, Rajveer was asking whether he was allowed a turn to speak.

For the next two days, Geet stopped thinking quite so carefully before doing things. When Papa offered her food, she accepted it, and when he stole something from her plate, she complained loudly enough for everyone to hear. She asked him to pass the television remote and argued about what they should watch, settling beside him afterwards with the confidence that he would make room.

At dinner on the second evening, Sukhmani lifted the paratha basket towards her.

“Another one, beta?” she offered, and Geet looked at it before glancing down at her plate.

Rajveer noticed the hesitation and leaned a little closer. “Why are you thinking about it as though Chachi has offered you a mortgage? Take one if you’re hungry.”

“I’ve already had two,” Geet explained, looking towards Sukhmani before she could stop herself.

Rajveer was reaching for his glass and missed the movement, but Jasmeen watched from across the table as Sukhmani placed a paratha on Geet’s plate.

“Apparently all the rules disappear when Papa visits,” Sukhmani teased, touching Geet’s head.

“What rules?” Rajveer asked, smiling as he set his glass down.

“Meal times, sweets before dinner and how much one small child can fit inside herself,” Sukhmani replied. “When you’re not here, I’m the one trying to convince her to eat properly.”

Rajveer studied his daughter, noticing how slender her wrists looked beneath her sleeves.

“She’s getting thin,” he remarked, reaching to move the serving bowl closer.

“I keep telling her,” Sukhmani agreed. “Sometimes she barely touches dinner.”

Geet looked up, confused enough that she forgot the piece of paratha between her fingers. She remembered being told she had eaten well after two, and that biscuits spoiled her appetite, but Chachi sounded worried now, as though she had been asking Geet to eat more all along.

Perhaps she had misunderstood the other conversations. She didn’t always know what adults meant, particularly when the same things seemed to matter differently from one day to another.

“Eat, Geetu,” Rajveer told her, pointing towards her plate before she could think about it any further.

“Yes, Papa,” she replied, smiling when he offered her more paneer.

She finished the paratha without having to explain whether she needed it, and when her father asked if she wanted anything else, she considered how she felt before answering.

Rajveer left on Sunday, and by Tuesday the house had returned to its usual routine. Geet came home from school with her stomach aching, having spent most of lunch helping her teacher organise books before the bell rang. It was only when she reached into her bag that she remembered leaving her lunchbox beneath the desk, and she went to the kitchen hoping there would be something she could eat before homework.

She had opened the fridge and spotted a container of rice when Sukhmani entered with shopping bags.

“Hungry?” her aunt asked, setting the bags on the counter as Geet turned.

“Yes, Chachi,” she replied, keeping a hand on the fridge door.

“Didn’t you eat your lunch?” Sukhmani questioned, beginning to unpack the vegetables.

“I forgot. I was helping Miss with the books,” Geet explained, watching her aunt pause.

“You forgot to eat?” Sukhmani repeated. “Where’s your lunchbox?”

“At school,” Geet admitted, lowering her eyes. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

Sukhmani sighed as she placed a bag of tomatoes on the counter. “Your Papa bought that barely two months ago, beta. You need to be more responsible with your things.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Geet replied, wishing she had remembered it before leaving the classroom.

“Why are you apologising to me? It isn’t my money,” Sukhmani responded, then softened when Geet looked down. “Don’t make that face. I’m not angry with you. I’m teaching you to appreciate how hard your Papa works.”

Geet nodded, pressing her fingers more tightly around the fridge handle whilst Sukhmani touched her shoulder.

“Good girl. Take the rice if you’re hungry,” she offered, glancing towards the container. “Although dinner will be ready in about an hour, and you remember what happened last time you ate beforehand.”

Geet let go of the door, no longer certain that taking the rice was the right thing to do.

“I’ll wait,” she said, stepping back.

“You don’t have to,” Sukhmani reminded her, continuing to put the shopping away.

“I’m okay,” Geet assured her, although the smell of the vegetables and the sight of the rice had made her stomach ache more.

“If you’re sure,” Sukhmani replied, smiling as Geet closed the fridge. “It’s good to stop and think about whether you need something instead of eating because it’s there.”

Geet went upstairs and drank a glass of water before changing, then had another whilst trying to concentrate on her homework. She watched the clock between questions, telling herself dinner wasn’t far away and she could wait a little longer.

When they finally sat down, she began eating before Lavanya had finished talking about tuition, barely noticing how quickly she was taking each mouthful until Sukhmani leaned across to fill her glass.

“Slowly, beta,” her aunt murmured with a small laugh. “Nobody is going to take your plate.”

Geet paused with a piece of roti in her hand as Lavanya looked towards her.

“She’s eating like she hasn’t eaten for a week,” her cousin remarked, giggling whilst Geet felt her face grow hot.

“Lavanya, don’t embarrass her,” Sukhmani said, though there was still amusement in her expression as she moved the jug away.

“I wasn’t eating fast,” Geet replied, lowering her hand.

“No one’s saying you’ve done anything wrong,” Sukhmani assured her. “I don’t want you making yourself sick and then telling Papa your stomach hurts. You know how much he worries.”

Geet looked at the food she had been enjoying a moment earlier, remembering how quickly her father’s voice changed whenever he thought something was wrong. If she made herself ill, he might try to come back, and he had only just returned home from a journey that had left him tired.

She took a few smaller mouthfuls, conscious now of every movement, before setting the roti down.

“I’m full,” she murmured, hoping that would stop anyone looking at her.

“Already?” Sukhmani asked, glancing at what remained. When Geet nodded, she reached for the plate. “All right, don’t force yourself.”

Geet watched her carry it away, her hands settling in her lap whilst the hunger continued beneath the embarrassment.

At the other end of the table, Rajinder lowered his spoon and looked towards the kitchen before noticing Lavanya turn back to her cousin.

“Leave Geet alone,” he told his daughter firmly, stopping her before she could speak. “She can eat at her own pace without you commenting.”

“I was only joking, Papa,” Lavanya protested, sitting back when he gave her a warning look.

“Then find something else to joke about,” Rajinder replied, turning towards Geet with a gentler expression. “And if you’re still hungry, beta, have some more. There’s plenty here.”

Geet looked at him, then towards Sukhmani, who was standing at the kitchen counter with her back to them. She waited without quite knowing what she was waiting for, watching her aunt put the plate down.

Rajinder noticed where her attention had gone.

“Geetu,” he prompted softly, drawing her gaze back. “You don’t have to leave it for anyone else. Eat if you want to.”

After a moment, Geet reached for another roti, and Rajinder passed her a clean plate before moving the dal closer.

“Have some of this too,” he encouraged, returning to his own meal so she wouldn’t feel watched.

Geet took a little and began eating again, relieved when Lavanya turned her attention to her own plate. She finished the roti, but when the bowl came towards her once more, she shook her head, still conscious of how much attention her hunger had already caused.

At around midnight that night, she woke with an ache in her stomach and lay still, listening to Lavanya breathing in the next bed. She tried turning onto her side and drawing her knees up beneath the blanket, hoping she would fall asleep before she had to decide what to do.

Breakfast was hours away, but she had already eaten dinner and then accepted more when Chachu offered. She wasn’t sure how she could still be hungry, and the thought of explaining it made her remain beneath the covers until another uncomfortable growl had her pressing a hand against her stomach.

Eventually she climbed out, moving quietly across the bedroom before opening the door just wide enough to slip through. She left the hallway light off and held the banister as she went downstairs, avoiding the step that creaked because she didn’t want anyone waking to ask where she was going.

The rice was still in the fridge, and Geet took it out carefully, relieved to find something left over that nobody appeared to want. She found a spoon and lowered herself onto the floor beside the counter, deciding not to use the microwave because she knew how loudly it beeped when it finished.

The rice was cold, but she ate it anyway, taking another mouthful as soon as she swallowed the first. Her stomach began to ease, and she was no longer thinking about whether she should have waited when a sound from the hallway made her stop. Hearing footsteps, she hurried to her feet and pressed the lid onto the container, holding it against herself shaking, fearing that chachi has caught her. Her eyes widened as she looked at her dadima Jasmeen appear in the doorway.

“Geetu?” her grandmother called, her sleepy expression changing when she saw the child standing barefoot beside the counter. “What are you doing down here, meri bacchi?”

Geet couldn’t seem to answer, her mouth still had some rice and she quickly chewed and swallowed as fast as she could, her fingers tightening around the container whilst Jasmeen approached.

“Were you hungry?” she asked gently, looking at what Geet was holding.

Geet shook her head before she had time to consider the question, and Jasmeen frowned, keeping her voice quiet.

“Then why have you got the rice?”

“I don’t know,” Geet whispered, feeling foolish as soon as she said it.

“Geet, look at me,” Jasmeen urged, reaching towards her arm. “Why are you hiding it?”

“I’m not,” Geet replied, but her eyes filled when her grandmother glanced at the lid.

“You covered it when you heard me coming,” Jasmeen said, watching Geet lower her face.

“I wasn’t stealing it,” Geet whispered, frightened that this was what her grandmother thought.

Jasmeen’s hand stilled against her arm. “What did you say?”

“I wasn’t stealing it, Dadima,” Geet repeated, her chin trembling as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I was hungry” she added further biting down on her lower lip trying to stop herself from crying. She felt guilty and greedy.

Jasmeen took the container and set it aside before drawing her close, holding the back of her head as Geet clutched at her dressing gown. She hugged Geet tightly.

“It was left over, and nobody wanted it,” Geet explained between sobs, trying to make her grandmother understand. “I didn’t finish my dinner because I was eating too fast, and then Chachu gave me more, so I thought I could wait until breakfast, but my stomach hurt because I got hungry again” she whimpered.

“You don’t need to explain why you wanted food in your own home,” Jasmeen quickly told her, stroking her hair whilst Geet shook her head against her chest.

“I wasn’t being greedy,” she insisted, holding more tightly.

Jasmeen eased back enough to look at her. “Who told you that you were?”

“Nobody,” Geet answered, wiping her cheek with the heel of her hand.

“Then why do you think being hungry means you’ve been greedy?” Jasmeen asked, trying to keep the distress from her voice. She knew exactly who might have put those thoughts in her Geetu’s head. She was certainly going to have to have a talk with her daughter in law.

“I don’t know,” Geet whispered, and the confusion in her face made it difficult for Jasmeen to ask again.

She thought of the uneaten chocolate, the glances across the dinner table and the way Geet had begun withdrawing her hand whenever someone entered a room. Whatever had taught her to be afraid, she couldn’t seem to put it into words, and Jasmeen couldn’t bear to make her stand there searching for an answer whilst she was hungry and crying.

“Listen to me,” she said, cupping Geet’s cheek. “If you’re hungry, you can eat. That doesn’t make you greedy.”

“Even if I’ve eaten already?” Geet asked, looking towards the container.

“Yes, even then,” Jasmeen assured her. “You don’t have to stay hungry because you had something earlier.”

“What if somebody else wants it?” Geet questioned, her voice still unsteady.

“Then we make more, or find something else,” Jasmeen replied, brushing the tears from her cheek. “You’re ten years old, meri bacchi. You don’t have to solve all of that before you’re allowed a mouthful.”

Geet leaned against her again, and Jasmeen kissed her hair before reaching for the container.

“Come and sit at the table. I’ll warm this for you,” she told her, but Geet caught her sleeve immediately.

“The microwave will wake everyone,” she whispered, looking anxiously towards the doorway.

“Then they can wake up,” Jasmeen answered, keeping her hand over Geet’s for a moment.

“But Chachi might…” Geet began, trailing off when her grandmother turned towards her.

“If Chachi comes down, I’ll speak to her,” Jasmeen assured her. “You sit with me and have something warm.”

She settled Geet at the table, then warmed the rice and some dal, adding a little ghee before bringing it over with a roti. Geet reached for the spoon, her fingers still trembling, but Jasmeen sat beside her and gently took it.

“I can feed myself,” Geet murmured, watching her grandmother mix the rice.

“I know you can,” Jasmeen replied, gathering a small spoonful and cooling it before holding it out. “But you’re my granddaughter, and tonight I’d like to feed you.”

Geet hesitated, then opened her mouth, swallowing carefully as the warmth settled in her stomach. Her eyes filled again before she could stop them, and Jasmeen immediately lowered the spoon.

“Is it too hot?” she asked, reaching to touch Geet’s cheek.

Geet shook her head, wiping beneath her eyes. “It’s warm,” she managed, looking at the bowl.

Jasmeen glanced towards the container on the counter, thinking of her granddaughter sitting on the floor eating from it, and had to swallow before she could answer.

“Yes, meri bacchi,” she said softly, gathering another spoonful. “You can take your time. I’m right here.”

She stayed beside Geet whilst she ate, occasionally brushing her hair back or reminding her to have a drink, but she didn’t ask what else she’d eaten or how much she thought she needed. When the bowl was empty, Jasmeen rested the spoon inside and waited until Geet looked up.

“Would you like some more?” she asked.

Geet shook her head at once, then glanced towards the food on the counter. Jasmeen remained where she was, giving her time without reaching to clear the bowl.

“A little,” Geet admitted at last, and her grandmother smiled as she stood.

“Then I’ll bring a little more,” she replied, touching Geet’s shoulder on her way past.

Geet watched her fill the bowl, slowly uncurling the fingers she had pressed into her lap. Dadima hadn’t sighed or looked at the clock, and when she returned, she simply sat down and continued feeding her as though there had never been anything difficult about asking.

The following morning, Sukhmani stopped in Jasmeen’s doorway when she noticed the basket beside the bed, looking over the packets of biscuits and crackers tucked amongst fruit and a few chocolates.

“Have you opened a shop overnight, Ma?” she asked with a small laugh, stepping inside. “What’s all this for?”

“Geet,” Jasmeen answered, marking her place in the prayer book resting on her lap.

Sukhmani’s smile faltered slightly. “Why? There are biscuits downstairs.”

“I found her in the kitchen last night eating cold rice,” Jasmeen told her, closing the book. “She was sitting on the floor because she didn’t want anyone to hear her.”

“At night?” Sukhmani questioned, her brows drawing together. “Why didn’t she wake me? I would have warmed something.”

“She was frightened of being caught eating,” Jasmeen replied, watching her closely.

“Why would she be frightened of me?” Sukhmani asked, and Jasmeen rested the prayer book beside her.

“I didn’t say she was frightened of you.”

“You didn’t need to,” Sukhmani responded, her voice quieter now. “I know what you’re suggesting, Ma.”

“I’m telling you what happened,” Jasmeen said, keeping her gaze steady.

“And I’m telling you that I have never denied her food,” Sukhmani replied, moving further into the room. “I make her breakfast, pack her lunch and cook dinner every evening. If I remind her not to snack before a meal, I say the same thing to Lavanya.”

“Lavanya doesn’t hide in the kitchen eating rice at midnight,” Jasmeen pointed out, and Sukhmani looked away before releasing a tired breath.

“Geet is sensitive,” she said. “Since Simran died, everyone has been so afraid of upsetting her that even an ordinary reminder becomes something more.”

“What ordinary reminder makes a child think she’s stealing food from her own kitchen?” Jasmeen questioned, her fingers tightening against the edge of the blanket.

“I don’t know why she would say that,” Sukhmani replied. “But I am raising two girls, Ma. Rajveer worries because he isn’t here, you worry because she’s lost her mother, and I still have to manage the everyday things. Sometimes that means teaching them not to waste food or forget their belongings.”

“You can teach her to look after her things without telling her how hard her father works every time she needs something,” Jasmeen responded.

Sukhmani’s eyes returned to hers. “I tell both girls to appreciate what their parents do.”

“Then look at what each of them has understood,” Jasmeen said. “Lavanya can ask you for something without being afraid she’s caused a problem. Geet wonders how much it will cost her father before she asks for food.”

“That isn’t what I’ve taught her,” Sukhmani objected, shaking her head.

“Last night, she apologised for being hungry,” Jasmeen told her, her eyes filling up for a brief moment, she continued to glare at Sukhmani. “Whatever you intend, that is what she’s learning, and it needs to stop. Do you understand?” she asked sharply.

Sukhmani remained quiet for a moment, looking towards the basket before turning back.“Of course I’ll be more careful,” she answered. “But I hope you understand that I care about her too.”

Jasmeen waited as Sukhmani moved towards the door, then stopped with her hand near the frame.

“I know I’m not Simran,” Sukhmani continued, her voice low. “I’ve never pretended that I could replace her, but I have looked after Geet every day since she came here. I may not get everything right, but I am trying.”

“Then help her feel comfortable enough to eat, Sukhmani” Jasmeen replied. “That’s what I’m asking you to do. She is a motherless child, she has been entrusted to us by her papa. She is all Rajveer has left so keep his trust and take care of Geet like you promised” she stressed on her words.

Sukhmani gave a small nod and left, and Jasmeen remained looking at the doorway after she had gone. She could understand the work involved in caring for both girls, and she knew that children sometimes misunderstood what adults said, but neither explanation settled the memory of Geet clutching the rice against her chest.

She drew the basket closer to the edge of the bedside table, making sure it would be within easy reach.

When Geet returned from school that afternoon, she came into the room with her bag still over one shoulder and stopped as soon as she noticed it.

“What’s that, Dadima?” she asked, approaching the bed.

“It’s for you,” Jasmeen replied, patting the space beside her. “Put your bag down and come here.”

“All of it?” Geet questioned, looking at the different packets as she slipped the bag from her shoulder.

“All of it,” Jasmeen confirmed, watching her climb onto the mattress. “And I’ve decided my room has a very important rule.”

Geet turned towards her, waiting to hear what she needed to do.

“If you’re hungry, you eat,” Jasmeen told her, gesturing towards the basket.

Geet smiled and reached for the biscuits, but her hand stopped before she touched them.

“Can I have these?” she asked, looking back at her grandmother.

Jasmeen felt the familiar ache in her chest, though she kept her expression gentle as she took the packet and placed it in Geet’s hand.

“What did I tell you?” she prompted.

“If I’m hungry, I eat,” Geet repeated, looking down as she opened the wrapper.

“Exactly,” Jasmeen answered, returning to the clothes she had been folding so Geet wouldn’t feel watched.

Geet took one biscuit and ate it slowly, then glanced at her grandmother before taking another. Jasmeen continued folding, asking about school as though the biscuits needed no more attention than the book Geet had brought to read, and after a while Geet settled against the pillows and began telling her about the lesson she had enjoyed.

Downstairs, Sukhmani sat with the household notebook open, arranging the week’s receipts before entering each amount beneath its heading. Near the bottom of the page, she wrote Geet’s name and listed the medicine, replacement lunchbox, school shoes and project materials, checking the figures before underlining the total.

Keeping accounts was necessary, she told herself as she closed the book. Rajveer sent money for his daughter, and there was nothing wrong with knowing where it went, just as there was nothing wrong with expecting Geet to appreciate the things bought for her. Ma had always been protective of the child, and Sukhmani disliked the suggestion that her own care counted for less because she expected a little responsibility.

When the telephone rang that evening, she answered warmly and spoke to Rajveer for a few minutes before calling Geet.

“Your Papa,” she said, holding out the phone as her niece hurried towards her.

Geet’s face brightened immediately, and she carried it to the sofa, drawing her legs beneath her as Rajveer asked what she had done that day. She told him about school and laughed when he deliberately misunderstood something, correcting him in the patient voice she used whenever she knew he was being difficult on purpose.

“Did you eat properly today?” Rajveer asked once she had finished, and Geet glanced towards the stairs.

The basket was still beside Dadima’s bed, and she knew she could return to it if she became hungry later. Remembering that made it easier to answer.

“Yes, Papa,” she replied, settling further into the corner of the sofa.

“What did Chachi make?” he asked, and Geet described dinner, listening whilst he complained that everyone ate better when he wasn’t there.

She didn’t mention the biscuits, although Dadima hadn’t asked her to keep them a secret and nobody had told her there was anything wrong with eating them. It simply felt easier to leave that part out, just as she had left out the cold rice and the tears, because she didn’t know how to explain either without making Papa worry.

When the call ended, she took her book upstairs and went into Jasmeen’s room, pausing beside the basket before climbing onto the bed.

“Have you come to read to me?” Jasmeen asked, moving her shawl to make space.

Geet nodded and opened the book, beginning where they had stopped the previous day. A little later, she reached for another biscuit without interrupting the sentence, and Jasmeen kept her eyes on the page, listening as her granddaughter read.

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Chapter 1

Fantastic Chapter

Geet has been pampered at home by her parents

and when her mother died she suddenly became more responsible

towards her father helping in everything that she could

now her father has decided that Geet should stay with his brother and his

family in Delhi

seeing Geet gel so well with her cousin eased some of the tension

Geet's father had

Chapter 2

Terrific Chapter

Geet has now adapted to Delhi and her family there

however I feel her aunt is not wrong but she is trying not to

allow Geet the freedom she was used too especially letting her father pamper

her while shopping

Geet speaking to her father and I feel later their talks will turn much serious

with Geet stopping herself from asking anything