"Maa..." Nia is calling me from a distance. "Maa..." The voice is closer, the words clear. My cheeks feel a soft squeeze, and something shakes my head. A cold sprinkle on my face sends shivers, and I jerk my face away from the bright light.
"NIA!" I yank awake.
"Have this." It's Ehraan's mother, the wrinkles on her face deep and worried. She lifts my head and tips a glass of water.
"I have to go." I stumble off the settee. "My phone? Where's my phone?"
"With me." Ehraan looks at me and returns his gaze to the notepad, scribbling feverishly, talking to someone on my mobile.
"Manipal. I must go." I rise and grab my purse.
"There in 30 minutes," he says on the phone, hands me the device, and dashes inside the house.
I pick up my sandals at the door and call the elevator. Nia is fine. She is fine. The elevator thrums to a stop, but I can't open the door.
Ehraan appears to my left and yanks the door open, entering before me. "I'll drive." We enter, and he presses the key.
"I'll manage." The elevator creaks and descends.
"It's okay." He says and kneels to tie his shoelaces.
I drop my sandals and half-wear them, supporting myself against the lift.
"Let me," he spreads the sandals, pulls the straps behind my ankle, and hooks the buckles. The lift stops with a jerk. He slides the metallic grill and points to the main gate on the left. "Wait there. I'll get the car."
He runs towards the car park.
I trudge towards the gate, shaking off the dizzy air. A car screeches to a stop next to me. "Get in." He leans to open the door and plugs his phone into the mobile holder on the dash, setting the hospital address on the GPS. I get in, and he pulls the car out into the street. "Strap up, please."
I lock the strap and dial Revati. Shit! Her phone is busy. Shall I call Keshav? "How far?"
"Half an hour," he replies, his gaze fixed on the road.
The phone rings in my hands. "On my way, Revati."
"Yes, Ehraan told me."
"How's she?" A long silence follows, and something blobs inside me. "You there, Revati?"
"Just come, okay?" She hangs up. I cover my mouth with my palm to stifle the sobs.
I feel a light squeeze on my knee. "It's okay," Ehraan says, placing his arm back on the steering.
"Nia..." I don't want to, but I cry, gasping, letting out strangled tears.
"She'll be fine." He says, and I see the bone twitch on his clenched jaw.
"But —"
"She'll be fine." He says again, flexing his grip over the steering.
I don't know why, but I believe him.
***
