Chapter Twenty-Five Simi
Twenty-Five
Simi
My truce with Rupi feels precarious, but also precious.
We’ve taken to watching movies together again, and that seems to comfort her.
Last night we watched our favorite classic comedy from the sixties, Padosan, where a man who can’t sing to save his life enlists the help of a music teacher to woo his music-obsessed neighbor.
The scenes where he lip-synchs to the other man’s singing as she watches and listens from the window across the street were still every bit as funny as they were in our childhood.
We huddled over my laptop with chai and popcorn and laughed so hard that at one point, I had to thump Rupi’s back to keep her from choking on her laughter.
I haven’t seen my sister laugh like that in too long. I haven’t laughed like that in too long.
This morning, she sewed a broken button back on my blouse, and I made her pancakes.
We kept our conversation on movies and Chandni’s hair art and N&N’s obsession with anime. All the things that aren’t our personal land mines. No mention of our mother, green cards, Prem, or wedding shopping with his mom.
At least Karina is no longer a land mine. I did tell Rupi that I did as she said and called Karina’s bluff. Threatening to quit got the doctors to sign the papers. I haven’t told her I caved first. I haven’t told her about the dead cop either.
I’m not going to. What difference does it make?
PK Sharma may not be lying in wait to hunt her down, but everyone she knows is lying in wait and armed with judgment.
I cannot imagine her having to go back to that kind of public shaming.
Truth is that I also cannot imagine living without her again.
The thought of her leaving brings an edge of panic, and I’m not ready to face it.
While I made pancakes, she sketched a drawing for me. Two sisters huddled over a laptop, their bodies filled with laughter and love.
I told her that if I ever got a tattoo, this was the one she was giving me. She didn’t respond. She just smiled, but her eyes went sad. So, tattoos were also out as a topic of conversation.
I put the picture on my fridge and told her stories of the triplets’ poop-related disasters to perk up the mood again. Rupi laughed until tears ran from her eyes. I forgot how much she enjoyed potty humor.
Now we’re on our way to see Saj at his office. He has something important to discuss.
One part of me doesn’t want to go. For one, I don’t know what kind of news he has for us, but even more importantly, the idea of upsetting my peace with Rupi makes my belly cramp.
Her emotions seem to pop right up to the surface around Saj.
Right now, she’s leaning extra hard into nonchalance, which means she’s wound tight about the meeting too.
Prem is traveling again. It’s been a week since I saw him last. The distance between us is starting to grow thorns. I’m starting to feel hopeless. But I might have my sister back, and that’s what matters right now.
We get out of the car outside an impressive steel-and-glass building in the trendy Gulch. In the four years I’ve been here, Nashville has grown at such an alarming rate, sometimes I barely recognize it.
The lobby is all white marble. The receptionist with the bluest eyes walks us to a waiting area and lets us know that Mr. Rawal will be with us soon.
The white fabric couches are so bright that sitting on them doesn’t feel like an option.
When we first walked into the building, Rupi looked uncomfortable, but now she’s smiling. “What a perfect place for cyborgs. Do you think there’s a pod in his office where he gets charged?”
“Why don’t you come in and find out for yourself,” Saj says, walking up to us.
A laugh bursts out of me, but neither of them cracks a smile.
Saj leads us into his corner office overlooking the river. It’s like an office in one of those high-powered big-city movies. Rupi widens her eyes at me behind Saj.
“Thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Like what?” Rupi asks, walking up to a wall covered in framed newspaper and magazine articles. They’re all high-profile cases Saj was involved in.
He watches her study the wall. “Like tea, coffee, water, soda, beer, wine . . .”
She turns away from the articles and looks at him. “Really? Fancy.” She whistles.
“So?” he asks.
She looks confused.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks.”
Then, in the most out-of-character way, she sashays past him and drops into the couch. She gives a little bounce. “Seriously fancy. I had no idea immigration attorneys do so well.”
“They don’t. It’s my dad’s practice. Intellectual property and patent lawyers do so well.”
“Ah,” she says. “So, the rich kid is taken up with lost causes.”
“Actually, the rich kid believes that no cause is a lost cause,” he says.
Before she can say something even ruder, I ask for a soda. I think I’m going to need some sugar for this.
He gets me a Sprite from a fridge tucked into a bookcase lined with leather-bound books.
I walk up to the impressively tidy mahogany desk. My eyes stop on an Indian passport in a zipper bag sitting on the leather liner.
I look up to find Saj watching me. “Is that—?” I can’t keep the excitement out of my voice.
He nods, but he doesn’t seem to share my excitement. His gaze is worried as it slides to Rupi, who’s checking out the breathtakingly lovely view from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Rupi,” I call out. “I think you need to see this.”
She saunters over, then stops in her tracks when she sees the passport. Every bit of nonchalance leaves her body.
Saj takes a step closer to her, then steps back.
She looks at him with her whole heart in her eyes. “That’s my passport.”
He nods.
“How . . .” Rupi is never at a loss for words. She picks it up and takes it out of the bag and looks like she might cry.
I do cry. I can’t remember the last time I was happier.
Saj hands me a tissue, looking as somber as ever. His eyes keep straying to Rupi.
“My gosh, Saj, this is amazing,” I say. “I can’t believe you did it!”
“I did,” he says, but there’s a distinct lack of jubilation in the words.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
His eyes on Rupi are so intense, I don’t know how she can bear it.
She blinks up at him. She’s confused by his behavior too. Then she examines the passport again. “Did you change your mind and get a fake made?” She opens it and looks through it. “Nope. This is my passport photo. Then why are you looking at me like you expect me to bite your head off?”
The strangest expression passes over his face. “Because you might do exactly that.” He looks genuinely afraid of Rupi decapitating him.
Rupi seems to read something in his face and steps back. “My god. Tina knows where to find me. You told her.” Her gaze slides to the door. “Are they coming for me?” She starts pacing.
“Can you sit down, please? I’ll tell you everything.”
She spins to face him. Her cheeks are blazing. “I don’t want to fucking sit. Am I going to be sitting in jail? What did you do?”
“I told you I won’t let that happen,” he says in the gentlest voice. “You’re safe. I’ve already applied for an extension for your visa. That’s not what I want to talk about.”
“Can you spit it out already?” she says. “Please.”
“I hired a private detective to investigate Tina and Ron’s businesses before I went to LA to meet Tina.” He takes a breath. “You weren’t the only girl Ron took advantage of. He was running an escort service out of Curry with undocumented South Asian women.”
He pulls pictures out of an envelope and holds them out to her.
She doesn’t take them. Obviously she already knew this.
I take the pictures from him. They’re heartbreaking.
Night shots of young women dressed in tight, glittery Indian dresses getting in cars and entering hotel rooms with men of all ages.
They look even younger than I am. It’s their eyes that catch me. Dead eyes.
I drop into a chair.
“Most of them are graduate students and tech workers who’ve lapsed their visa status because of lost jobs and constantly changing immigration policies,” Saj says.
I press a hand to my chest. “That’s terrible.”
Rupi hasn’t said a word. Her jaw is clenched tightly enough to crack teeth.
Saj is watching her with so much focus, it’s like I’m not even in the room.
Finally Rupi looks back at him. “What does Tina want?”
“She wants to get out of the business. She wants to go to the authorities and ask for immunity in return for turning into a witness. Obviously the operation runs deep and wide. Apparently she’s in trouble.
The documents you took had some crucial information.
Codes to safety-deposit boxes and accounts.
She’s being threatened. She’s scared for her life. ”
“Good,” Rupi says. “But I don’t have the file anymore. You know that.”
“She knows that. That’s not what she wants.”
“Just say it, Saj,” Rupi says.
“She asked for my help.”
Rupi starts laughing. “Wow. She wants you to be her lawyer. I did not see that coming.”
“Or she wants me to help her find one.”
“And you promised to do that in exchange for the passport.”
“I told her I’d think about it in exchange for the passport.”
“You asshole,” she says. “I trusted you.”
“Rupi,” I say. “He hasn’t done anything. He got your passport back.”
“Can you for once be on my side?”
“I am,” I say.
“We both are,” Saj says.
“He’s not going to help Tina,” I say.
Another laugh spurts from Rupi. “Of course he is. Didn’t you hear him before.
There are no lost causes.” She squeezes her temples, then turns to him, a new realization in her eyes.
“I’m such an idiot. I knew it.” She gets up and goes to the wall covered in interviews and articles about Saj’s cases.
“I was right. You don’t actually care about my case at all, do you?
You never did.” She points to the framed news pieces.
“This was always about the trafficking. You were just using me to get that case. Helping me doesn’t get you an article in a magazine.
” She starts walking toward the door. “Let’s go, Simi. ”
“I hate those frames,” he says as Rupi reaches the door. “My dad’s the one who had them made. He likes to show them to his clients.”
Rupi stops at the door but doesn’t turn around. “Is he also the one who gave all those interviews?”
Saj walks up to her but leaves a few feet of distance between them. “Rupi.”
“Don’t say my name like you’re my friend.”
“Please turn around and hear me out.”
“No. I did that once, and you used me.”
He takes another step closer. For a moment I think he’s going to take her arm and turn her around.
But he doesn’t touch her. “Do you know how many people knowingly abuse and threaten immigrants who have no legal recourse to protect themselves? Too many. Do you know how many Americans care about what happens to people stuck in the mess of immigration laws? How many people give a shit what happens to hardworking, well-meaning people lost because some policy changed in the middle of them living their lives? Too few. The only way to get them to care is to talk to the media. Every time I win a case and someone covers it, someone sits up and takes notice of the fact that something is broken. So yes, I do the interviews.”
She turns around and looks at him. Her eyes are blazing with anger, but she’s listening again.
“And yes, from the time you told me what happened to you in LA, I’ve wanted to burn that place to the ground.
If Ron were alive, I’d want nothing more than to throw his ass in jail.
And if I have a chance to lock up the other shits who worked with him, then yes, I want that chance.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care about yo—about your case. ”
They’re staring each other down again, and I’m holding my breath.
“Then don’t abandon me.” She swallows. “I mean, don’t abandon my case.”
“I’m not. I was never going to. Working with Tina doesn’t mean not working with you. And I’m not working with Tina unless you tell me you want me to go after the operation. But I want you to think about it. Those women need help, Rupi.”
“I was almost one of those women,” she whispers. “Not everyone has a sister to run away to and a hotshot lawyer who befriends her. They have nowhere to go.”
“But they have us. We can help them. You can help them.”
For a long time, she says nothing. They stand there, watching each other, their breathing expanding and contracting their chests in matching rhythms.
Finally Rupi speaks. “What happens to the girls when the ring is busted?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Then find out. And ask me again when you know.”
With that, she lets herself out without waiting for me to follow. But before I jog after her, I see the most goofy smile on the face of the most serious man I’ve ever met.