Chapter Sixteen
Sejal didn’t know what to do with her hands. They hung limply by her sides as the embrace went on for what felt like long
minutes. Her sister’s hair tickled her nose, and that sensation brought a tear to her eyes. Yes, that was why her eyes were
growing wet. Krish cleared his throat behind her, and Mira’s arms loosened. Then the infant in Mira’s arms yanked Sejal’s
hair. Hard. “Ow.”
“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” Mira pulled back and disentangled the child’s hands from Sejal’s strands. “Ananya, no! Gentle touches.
Gentle.”
Sejal smoothed her hair. “This is . . . yours?” she asked awkwardly.
“Yes.” Mira beamed down at the girl, then at Sejal. “This is my daughter. Your niece! Ananya.”
Your niece. Wow. She’d been someone’s niece, but never had one. Never even thought that the branches of her family tree would grow. “Hi.”
She waved at the baby, but it only stared at her. Oh no. Did it know? That she’d thought of it as an it and was therefore
wildly unqualified to be an aunt?
“Naveen!” Mira called out, over her shoulder. Naveen appeared behind his wife, his eyes wide. Sejal’s brother-in-law had also put on some happy weight, and he looked as surprised as Mira to find Sejal and Krish on their doorstep.
Sejal gave him a wary nod. She had nothing against her sister’s husband, personally. It was just that people who came from
wealthy families, especially lawyers who came from wealthy families, hadn’t historically been her favorite people.
But Naveen had helped save Sejal’s life by coughing up that diamond necklace for their mom, and he seemed to look at Mira
with love at their wedding, so Sejal assumed he couldn’t be all bad.
“And this is . . .” Mira looked at Krish, eyebrows raised.
“Krish. Krish, this is Mira, my sister.”
“Hello,” Krish said. His voice was subdued. “You have a cute baby.”
Mira smiled at him, but switched back to Sejal. “I’m so glad to see you,” Mira said in a rush.
“I’m . . . surprised to see you.”
“Yes, we’re surprised as well.” Naveen gently took his wife’s arm and guided her back into the room. “Come in, please.”
“Sejal!” A small, portly Indian man, about her dad’s age, rose from the dark leather couch in front of the large television.
He wore a velvet burgundy smoking jacket, à la Hugh Hefner. His round cheeks had deep dimples when he smiled. He walked toward
them. “My God! I almost didn’t believe it was you. I haven’t seen you since you were, what?”
“Seventeen. Hi. You look good.”
Sunil took Sejal’s hands in his own. Other than a few wrinkles around his eyes, he looked the same as he always had. The older
man beamed at her. “You do, too, my love. And who is this bunny you’ve brought, Sejal?”
Before she could answer, Mira cut in. “You knew she was coming here?” Mira asked.
“Yes, of course. She came to the club.”
Her sister shifted the infant to her other arm. The child sat comfortably there, her dark eyes taking everything in. “And
you didn’t tell me she showed up?”
“I thought it best. Didn’t want to get your hopes up.”
Mira glared at their uncle. “I thought she was dead. You could have told me that twenty minutes ago and saved me twenty minutes
of grief.”
“But if she got into a car accident along the way, then you would have gotten your hopes up and had them dashed immediately,”
Sunil pointed out.
“Why would you think I was dead?” Sejal interjected.
“Because you sent me the most cryptic text in the world the day before yesterday and then vanished.”
Oh.
“What text?” Krish asked Sejal quietly.
“I sent her a text in the diner before Viktor found me because . . . I didn’t know if I’d see her again.” She turned to Mira.
“It was a fairly benign text.”
“Any text is sinister if there’s no follow-up or further replies! Especially if it turns out that it came from a burner phone.”
Naveen put his arm around Mira’s shoulders. He was a lawyer by trade, and he had a slow, deliberate way of speaking, like
he was always ready to negotiate with someone. “We tried to have one of our friends trace you, to no avail. We flew to Vegas
because we figured that if you contacted Mira, you might come here or try to reach Sunil.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you’d uproot everything and come running because of that text.” Mira had put herself out for her sister. Again. God, such a mess you are, Sejal.
As if to agree, the baby let out a piercing shriek and started kicking, hitting her mother’s stomach. Mira winced and readjusted
her daughter. “Sorry. Let me get her nanny. Isha?” she called out.
“You have a nanny?”
Mira shot her sister a narrow glance. “Yes, I have a nanny.”
“I didn’t mean anything judgy by it. Good for you.” Her sister had come a long way from their childhood if she had regular
help.
“You know what they say, if you don’t have a village, you have to hire one.”
Mira had turned away, which was good, because it took a moment for Sejal to compose her face. Aunts were supposed to be the
village, but even if they lived near each other and were on great terms, Sejal didn’t know the first thing about kids. It
was right that Mira had outsourced this.
Talking to her sister was like a land mine, and they hadn’t even broached the subject of their father.
“We brought Isha with us because we didn’t know what we’d find here, and Ananya’s too young to be away from us. Isha hasn’t
been with us long, but my old college roommate’s friend recommended her highly, and she’s been a godsend lately.”
Oh, the college roommate. Christine had been in that dorm room when Sejal had come busting in all those years ago. Sejal had
seen her again when she’d lurked at Mira’s wedding. It had been apparent both times that Christine was Mira’s actual, chosen
sister. She’d radiated love and protectiveness for Mira.
A land mine indeed.
A pretty, fresh-faced South Asian woman walked into the living room, her long hair in a low ponytail. She wore comfortable sweats and sneakers. She could have been nineteen or twenty-nine, Sejal wasn’t sure.
“This is Isha. Isha, this is my sister, Sejal, and her, um, friend, Krish?”
Friend wasn’t the right word for her relationship with Krish, but not much else fit social norms, so it would do.
Isha smiled at Sejal. Her teeth were very white. “Hello. How nice to meet you. Mira, I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
Isha’s Indian accent was lyrical and sweet, but didn’t blunt the pain of the words.
Sister only by blood. “I haven’t been around much,” Sejal said.
Mira cleared her throat. “Can you take Ananya for a walk in her stroller?”
“Happily. You two have fun visiting.”
Sunil looked at Krish as Isha gathered the baby and the diaper bag from Naveen. “What did you say your name was again, young
man?”
Krish took a step forward. “Krish Anand.”
Isha walked past Sejal. Ananya leaned out of her nanny’s arms and gave Sejal a gummy smile. She gave a tentative wave back
and was rewarded with spit bubbles that faded as the door closed behind them.
Sejal turned back to the group to find Mira watching her, and she stuffed her hands into her pockets. Her sister had a good
poker face. Sejal couldn’t decipher what she was thinking.
“Krish . . .” Sunil squinted at him. “And what are you doing here with our Sejal?”
“I’m—”
Sejal grabbed his hand and squeezed. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, and she wasn’t sure if he was surprised by her touching him or that she’d silenced him.
“Krish is with me because—” Sejal hesitated.
If she told her father’s old friend that Krish was an FBI agent who had planned on using her to lure her aunt out of hiding, well .
. . she would be able to walk out the door right now and rest assured that she’d never see Krish again.
Sunil could easily make sure Krish couldn’t follow her.
In addition to being a successful businessman, Sunil Uncle was an excellent forger and had connections everywhere.
Except now Krish was helping her, and she found she didn’t want to ditch him at the moment. At all? She wasn’t sure. She needed
to think about it, but she wouldn’t get a chance to think if she revealed his FBI connections and sent everyone into hysterics.
Her uncle had a soft spot for his late friend’s sister and less respect for law enforcement than she did. Sunil probably only
barely tolerated Naveen’s law license, and her brother-in-law mostly did wills and real estate. “Krish is just a friend.”
Sunil gave her a sideways glance. “The Sejal I knew didn’t have many friends.”
Fair. She’d never longed for close friendships, but part of her even envied how easily Mira had been able to hand her baby over
to the nanny.
Another reason Sejal wasn’t into having kids was because she knew she’d probably smother the hell out of them and never let
them leave her sight. “It’s not a common occurrence, no.”
Mira gestured to the seating area. “Why don’t we all have a seat. Do you guys want anything to drink?”
Krish shook his head, but Sejal nodded. “I’ll have a whiskey.” She wiped her hands on her thighs as she sat down on the couch,
Krish next to her. Sunil and Naveen sank into the armchairs.
Mira said nothing about it being barely noon.
Instead, she went to the wet bar in the corner, grabbed a mini-bottle of probably far too expensive whiskey, and brought it back to her.
Sejal appreciated that her sister hadn’t bothered with a glass.
One draw of the fiery liquid was enough to steady Sejal’s nerves.
“So what is going on?” Mira said, and sat on the arm of her husband’s chair.
“Someone’s after us. It’s okay,” she said, when Naveen half rose, as if to go fetch his daughter. “I’m pretty sure we’ve thrown
them off our trail.”
“Who?” Naveen asked. His eyes had grown watchful and dark.
Good. Her sister should have someone protective on her side. “Alexei Ivanovitch. That text I sent you, Mira, it was right
before one of his men tried to grab me.”
Sunil tsked. “You’re involved with the Ivanovitches again?”
Mira adjusted her shirt. “Who is Alexei?”