Trail of Broken Wings

“Of course,” Ranee answers, smiling. “In India, chai is one of the main food groups.” Ranee pushes the cup closer to Marin. “Take a sip, Marin. Things will seem clearer.”


“Chai’s not solving any problems,” Marin returns. Her hand trembling, she pushes the steaming cup away. She checks her phone for a message from Raj. Nothing. She slams it back down, the tremor of her hand the only clue to how scared she is. “I don’t want to keep you,” she murmurs, her shame having no limitations. “I appreciate you staying but we’re fine.” She begins to pace, glancing out the window repeatedly. Almost to herself, in a daze, she admits, “I can’t imagine where they went.”

“Is there someplace Gia likes to go?” Sonya asks gently, trying to ease her sister’s concern.

“No.” Marin picks up the phone and calls Raj again, but it goes straight to voice mail. She follows up with another text. Only silence in response. “Where are they?” she cries. Her hands shaking, she accidentally drops the phone, watching in horror as it bounces on the marble floor. Rushing toward it, she checks to make sure it’s not broken. Like a compass without a magnet, she is lost, only she hadn’t realized how much until now. “It still works,” she says aloud, reassuring herself. A frenetic energy driving her, she glances around. “I have to clean up.”

“It’s all done,” Ranee says gently. “The waitstaff took care of it.”

“Right.” Marin begins to pace, oblivious to Sonya and Ranee watching her with worry. “Where are they?” Glancing at her watch, she calculates the amount of time they’ve been gone. Only minutes have passed since her last call. “Let me try Raj again.”

“Hey,” Sonya says, slowly pulling the phone out of her hands. “What Gia said outside, about you still loving Dad?” She pauses, giving Marin a chance to talk. When she stays silent, Sonya asks, “You’ve never told her?”

“Told her what?” Marin demands, pushing because Sonya is the only one in front of her.

“That you’re scared,” Ranee says quietly. When Marin turns toward her, Ranee starts speaking slowly, every word difficult. “That you don’t trust her.”

“Trust her with what?” Marin asks.

“The truth.”

Marin’s face falls, grief washing over her. She tries to hide it, keep even this last secret hidden, but everything has become too much. With no turn left to take, she collapses into a chair, tears coursing down her cheeks. “What do I do?” she pleads.

“Offer her your trust—the thing I never gave you,” Ranee answers quietly. She starts to play with the gold bangles that line her wrists, three on each hand. She seems to hesitate, struggling. She swallows twice, biting her lip. Finally she begins to speak, her words halting, unsure. “When the three of you were young, I took all the gold I had received in my marriage dowry and melted it down to have six gold bangles made, two for each of you. But you were young, so I wore them, saving them for when you were old enough to take care of them.” She slowly slips each one off, setting them in the middle of the table. “You see, the gold was the only thing in this world that was mine. Everything in our life was bought with your father’s money. But the gold from my dowry, that was mine, given to me by your grandparents.”

Ranee reaches for Marin’s hand, holding it tightly. “But I have yet to give you them. I didn’t trust what you would do with them if I did.” Ranee lowers her head. “Maybe you would throw them in a drawer. Maybe you would laugh at the value I gave them. Maybe you would reject me because it is all I have to give to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Marin murmurs.

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