"Thanks for the drop, Ehraan." I open the door before the car stops and dash inside the hospital.
"ICU?"
The receptionist points at the far end of the lobby, and I scorch toward the ICU. I wriggle out of the sandals, grip the cold door handle, close my eyes, and inhale. Don't appear weak. She needs you. I push on the door.
"Oh, God!" My feet give way. Nia is lying on the bed, her face red, her left eye purple, and swollen shut, and her head wrapped in a white bandage. A tube is jutting out of her mouth and connected to a humming machine next to the bed. I reach for her through a mesh of cables connecting to the stack of beeping monitors, but I can't make myself touch her.
Revati wraps her arm around me.
"How?"
"She was...she tried to speed through a red signal. A car hit her scooter, and she... her helmet wasn't strapped."
"God!" I coil into Revati's shoulder, and for the second time today, I cry, big, gasping sobs, warm tears sliding off my cheeks.
Beeeeeeep! A muffled alarm fills the silence.
"What's happening?" My heart stutters.
The door opens with a zip, two doctors stagger in, and nurses follow. There is sudden commotion. "She's going into a hemorrhagic shock. Call Dr. Shastri. Vitals. Get me 5 ml —"
"Ma'am, step back."
"Huh?" I am suddenly numb, too stunned to move.
Revati tugs at my arm. "They are taking her to the OT. Sign here."
I shake my head, sign where the nurse points, and we step back, watching them wheel Nia out of the room.
We jog after them, my breath racing, praying.
"Wait here." A nurse stops us outside the OT.
I grab Revati's arm. "She'll be fine, won't she?"
Revati doesn't look at me; her eyes are glued to the aluminium door. The light over the door turns red.
I backtrack and slide into the steel chairs opposite the OT. "Where did I go so wrong?"
"It's not your fault, Reena." Revati sits beside me.
"Ever since Keshav left, it's been all downhill. The gallery and now Nia. I feel so...I've failed her."
"Have faith," Revati says, holding my palm.
"Nia shouldn't have crossed the red."
"What?" Revati looks at me.
"Nia always does this. She's always in a hurry."
"C'mon, Reena. This isn't the time for —"
"How's she?" Our collective gaze rises to Ehraan, holding two coffee cups.
Revati rises. "Doctor said she had a severe intracranial hematoma. She went into shock."
He hands her a cup and returns to me. "She'll be all right, Reena."
"Nia should've stopped. Should've waited. If only —"
"Mistakes happen."
"Mistakes?" I point at the OT, "that's the price."
If only she'd waited for the green and strapped her helmet. If only —"
"It can't be undone now," he says.
"What do you know?" I snap back. "You're still holding on to your loss even after five years."
He stares at the OT door for a long time, places the coffee cup on the adjacent chair, and trudges to a row of steel chairs in the lobby, occupying one in the corner.
"You shouldn't have said that, Reena." Revati looks at me, bemused.
I know, I know. But I did.
Revati sits beside me. "You've informed Keshav, right?"
I shake my head, placing my palm over my anxious knee.
"He's her father. He has a right to —"
"Please. He's never bothered about us." I grip my knee to fend off the stress inside me.
We sit silently, staring at the aluminium door leading to the ICU. "You better inform him."
"What?"
Revati clutches my palm. "Nia's health insurance lapsed."
"Lapsed?"
"You didn't renew it. The expenses, Reena. Surgery, admission, and we don't know how long she'll be here."
Oh, God! I lean back and bang the back of my head against the wall. "I missed the deadline."
She wriggles her fingers into mine and clasps tight. "I have paid the advance. We'll need to get some more."
"The gallery. Let's get the paperwork. That'll do, right?"
"Don't know." Revati shakes her head. "Even if we finish the paperwork, the money will take time."
I withdraw my hand from her, rise, and walk towards the OT door, trying to peek through the cold, rectangular glass. It's all mist on the other side — quiet and grey. I turn and walk towards the lobby, drawing my mobile. Ehraan is sitting in the same chair, scribbling something in his notepad. Our eyes meet for a moment, and he lowers his gaze to his pad. I walk further away, scroll through the contacts, close my eyes, and dial.
"Hello. Keshav?"
***
