Page 6

“It’s the police,” she says.

Confused, I head to the door with Claire. Two officers from the New York City Police Department stand before us. The taller one steps forward.

“Good morning, Miss Simran. I’m Sergeant Mark, and this is Detective Edwin from the NYPD,” he says, gesturing to his partner. “We’re here to investigate the threat you faced last night.”

My brow furrows in surprise. “But... how did you know? I haven’t called the department yet.”

“We received a call from the Walia family back in India,” Sergeant Mark explains. “They informed us of the situation.”

Realisation dawns on me. Meher must have made the call to the police after our conversation last night. She was really worried about me.

I invite the officers inside and recount everything that’s been happening. While I talk, Claire busies herself in the kitchen, occasionally throwing worried glances our way. Leila weaves between our legs, meowing softly as if offering her support.

The next two hours passes in a blur of questions, statements, and security assessments. The NYPD officers are thorough, making sure every detail is covered. They arrange for increased patrols in my neighbourhood and install a direct alarm system connected to the nearest precinct.

“We’re taking this very seriously, Miss,” Detective Edwin assures me. “We’ve assigned a team to investigate the source of those messages and to identify the individual you saw last night.”

Sergeant Mark adds, “In the meantime, we’ve arranged for a plainclothes officer to be stationed near your building. They’ll keep an eye out for any suspicious activity.”

I’m so engrossed in the proceedings that I barely have time to check my phone. Claire, bless her, handles all my calls as she reschedules appointments through my secretary, asking her to reassure my clients that I’m dealing with a ‘minor emergency.’

Finally, as the officers prepare to leave, Sergeant Mark hands me his card and says, “Remember, Miss, any suspicious activity, no matter how small, you call us immediately.”

I nod, feeling a mix of relief and lingering anxiety. “Thank you, officers. I can’t express how much I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

After they leave, I sink onto the couch, exhausted. Leila immediately jumps up and snuggles up beside me as if sensing my need for comfort.

“Claire,” I call out, “did anyone call while I was busy with the police?”

She appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Oh, yes. Your friend Meher from India called to check on you. I told her you were fine and that you’d call her back when you could.”

I smile gratefully. “Thanks, Claire. For everything.”

She waves off my thanks. “That’s what family does, dear. Now, why don’t you call Meher back while I fix us some dinner?”

I nod, reaching for my phone only to realise its midnight now there in India and Meher must be sleeping. I don’t want to disturb her at this odd hour, so I shoot her a quick message, thanking her for sending the NYPD team to help me and ensure my safety. I decide to call her as soon as it’s morning in India, just a few hours from now, and soon get busy with work.

As night approaches, the phone rings and I answer Meher’s call, my eyes drifting to the window, watching the New York skyline fade into twilight. The city lights have begun to twinkle, a reminder of why I fell in love with this place.

“Hello, Meher,” I say, a mixture of relief and exhaustion in my voice.

“Simran! How’s everything there? Are you okay?” Meher’s concern is palpable even through the phone.

I sink deeper into the couch, Leila curling up beside me. “I’m okay now, feeling much safer already. Thank you for sending the NYPD team. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end. “Actually, Sim... I didn’t send them.”

My brow furrows in confusion. “What? But then who...? Was it Ayaan?” It wouldn’t surprise me if Meher’s husband, with his connections as Director of a global law enforcement organisation, had stepped in.

“No, it wasn’t Ayaan,” Meher replies. “I didn’t even have to bring this to his attention. Someone else overheard our conversation yesterday and took action immediately.”

My heart starts to pound. There’s only one person who could have done this, but I can’t bring myself to say the name. “Who?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Vishnu,” Meher says simply.

I freeze, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through me—shock, gratitude, and... something else I can’t quite name. Fear?

Meher breaks the silence. “You know, Sim... I’ve never seen Vishnu this panicked and concerned for anyone outside the Walia family. When I told him you were in danger, he didn’t waste a single minute. He got every detail from me and made all the necessary calls. You know how he is. When Vishnu decides to protect someone, he’ll cross any border and push any limit to make sure they’re safe.”