Page 70 of Reasons We Break

Sighing, she selects a random T-shirt from her closet. TJ’s dinner is tonight, and although a large part of her wants to ignore it, she already slept through kirtan practice with Neetu today. Besides, shepromisedTJ. So the cipher will have to wait.

After rebraiding her hair, she knocks on her parents’ bedroom door. “Mom? I’m going out for a bit.” No answer. Simran pushes inside. “Mom?” The bed is unmade; the adjoining bathroom door is open. Simran peeks through, and her heart stops.

Her mom is hunched over the side of the toilet.

Simran skids to her side, trying not to panic. “What’s going on?” There’s vomit in the bowl. “When did this start?”

Her mother only gags, lurching for the toilet again. Simran instinctively holds her hair back, the once-shiny waves a mass of greasy tendrils. Is this supposed to be normal? “I’ll get the pain meds.”

“I don’t need them.”

“Mom—”

“I used to hate my womb, you know.” Her mom lifts her head from the bowl, her face flushed and sweaty. “It wouldn’t help me. I’d almost given up on it when you came along.” She hiccups. “Imadeyou in there. And now it’s gone.”

Simran doesn’t know what to say. She’d never considered her mother might be attached to the organ that was trying to kill her. And when she hiccups again, this time sounding suspiciously like a sob, Simran makes a decision. Forget her plans, forget the cipher. “Let’s go to the ER.”

At the mention of the ER, her mother’s entire demeanour changes. She sits up. “No. I’m fine.”

“Mom, you’re throwing up.”

“So?” She sniffs, somehow regal despite grasping a toilet for support. “It’s good. I’m getting rid of toxins.”

Simran would laugh if she weren’t scared. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“I thought you had plans today.”

So shedidhear. “It—doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you like this.”

“Yes, you are.” Her mother wipes her mouth, sounding more lucid. “Your father will be home soon. Go. Or are you just looking for a reason to be late? Is it so painful to be on time for once?”

Despite herself, Simran smiles. “Maybe a little.”

Her mother smiles too and pinches her cheek. Maybe it’s like Kiran said—she just likes being dramatic. And it’s with that reassuring thought, and the knowledge that her dad will be home in a few minutes, that Simran finally departs with a kiss to her mother’s forehead.

When Simran rings the doorbell of TJ’s house, TJ’s mom opens it, wearing a button-down cardigan and slacks, her black hair curling loosely around her shoulders. She’s much younger than Simran’s mom, and she looks it. When she sees Simran, she blinks in surprise.

“Sat Sri Akaal, Masi ji,” Simran says.

“Simran!” TJ’s mom recovers quickly. “It’s been too long. Come in, have chah?”

Her question hangs in the air. Despite the warm welcome, Simran senses the tense undercurrent. She doesn’t want Simran around, tonight of all nights, when TJ’s bringing her boyfriend home. She’s hoping Simran’s only here to run a quick errand.

No such luck. “Sure, Masi ji. I thought I’d come see TJ. She just arrived, right?” She holds out the container of ras malai she bought on her way. No one can say Simran doesn’t fully invest in her scams. “But if now’s not a good time...”

Simran can practically see her aunt’s ingrained manners battling her panic. “No, no, of course! It’s just—we’re expecting a guest very soon.”

Simran widens her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before coming. I’ll come tomorrow.” She turns to leave. Three, two, one—

“No!” her masi practically shouts. “No, of course you should come in.”

Simran turns, the picture of contrition. “Are you sure? It isn’t a big deal—”

“Youmustcome in.”

With a helpless shrug that suggests this was all her aunt’s idea, Simran strolls inside. Her masi sighs behind her. Simran bites back a smile. If nothing else, playing this role is at least an amusing diversion.

Her amusement ends when her masi says, “How’s your mom?”