Knots Without Strings

Manoma's teeth ground together. "I'm not pacing for exercise. I'm waiting for Raj. I need to speak to him as soon as he comes home."

Myra tilted her head slightly, feigning curiosity. "Oh? And is this talk... about me?"

Her mother-in-law's lips curled into a sly smile. "Of course it's about you."

Myra didn't flinch. She just nodded, as if she had expected nothing less. "I see. Should I be preparing myself for good news or bad?"

Manoma gave a dry laugh, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me, child-what *good* could there possibly be about you?"

Myra pressed her finger against her chin, pretending to think seriously. After a long pause, she shook her head. "Maybe you're right. Though, who knows... perhaps I have some hidden qualities, buried deep. People sometimes discover surprising things."

The older woman smirked at her tone, mistaking it for self-deprecation.

But Myra's voice was steady as she went on, "So, would you like me to be present when you have this little discussion with Raj?"

"Of course," Manoma snapped. "You must be there. I don't do backbiting behind people's backs."

For a moment, Myra simply looked at her, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. Then she said softly, "Of course you don't." Her gaze shifted toward the window where Mrs. Mehta was passing by the gate, her shopping bag swinging from her arm. Myra remembered with amusement how, just that morning, Manorma had ranted about Mrs. Mehta's loud laugh and tasteless sarees.

Myra turned back, her eyes gleaming with quiet mischief. "Alright then. Just let me know the moment Raj arrives. I'll make sure I'm present."