Trail of Broken Wings



Twenty-four hours have passed since Marin’s meeting with the principal. She has taken the day off from work, called in sick for the first time in her history with the company. She does not tell Raj the real reason, nor has she spoken with Gia about the situation. She is afraid to say anything. In truth, she has no idea how to take the next step. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment. The one where you ask your child who beat her. She considered confiding in Raj, telling him what she had learned, but the decision seemed to make itself. Raj left for an unexpected meeting in Los Angeles that morning. His return date wasn’t set. Which left Marin and Gia alone, together, with no suitable time to broach the subject.

The clock on the mantel strikes nine p.m. Over the years, Marin became deaf to the sound, but now she seems to hear every second passing. As if time is counting down and she has little left of it. What used to matter to her now seems irrelevant. Her stately mansion with a pristine yard and columns that wrap around the deck. The deadlines, the stock prices, her investment portfolio. The definition of her success feels absent, having lost its urgency.

The house is dark. Gia is at another study session for a science exam. Marin knows she will get an A on the test. She cannot pinpoint when her expectation of good grades became Gia’s. When Gia accepted that her grades validated her. An A versus a B—one step on the spectrum and yet miles apart in meaning. Exceptional versus satisfactory. Standards set by society that first Marin and now Gia bows to. Marin could not fathom her daughter bringing home anything less than perfection—her name on every honor roll means Gia has flown over the bar and landed on her feet.

The front door opens and closes, signaling Gia’s arrival home. Marin hears the drop of the backpack in the foyer, the jingling of keys as they are pulled out of the lock. The crack beneath her door reveals that light is flooding the house. Following a habit from childhood, Gia hits every switch as she makes her way through the house. Marin waits for her name to be called, but she is not summoned. She is not the first one her child seeks out. Gia has no desire to share her day, to reminisce about happenings at school. For a second Marin wonders what Gia would say if she did ask. The day was wonderful, but somewhere along the way I was beaten, and I don’t know why.

Gia is in the kitchen, rummaging for food. Marin can hear the sound of her munching on an apple as she takes the steps up to her room. Taking a deep breath, Marin clasps her hands together in prayer for the fourth time in her life. She doesn’t fall to her knees or lower herself to the ground to show the gods she is beneath them. They say with humility comes supremacy, but Marin has no interest. Today, she will stand side by side with whoever demands a place next to her. She will not ask, but instead command the right steps toward the path she needs to be on. She has learned the hard way that a request can be denied. For all the unanswered prayers of her past, today she will rely on herself, not leaving anything to chance.

“Gia,” Marin opens her office door and calls out. Her office is dark. The sun set hours ago and the moon rose, but Marin had not moved from her place on the sofa. Now that she has she can feel the stiffness set in. She wonders if it is what rigor mortis feels like. A body with a mind of its own. Having lost any reason to live, it becomes immobile. Like her father. “I need to see you.”

“Yeah?” Gia, still in her school clothes, makes her way down the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“Come in, please. We need to talk.” Marin switches on the table lamp. With the room full of light, she watches as Gia takes a seat on the sofa Marin just vacated. “How was school?”

“Great. But I have a test, so I should probably study.”

Sejal Badani's books