Free After All This Time by Nikita Singh

you’re probably wondering why I am here . . . I am asking myself that too, trust me. I ask myself that every day. I guess I just missed everyone so much. It had been too long . . .’ Lavanya said.
    ‘Yes, it had.’ Her mother nodded solemnly.
    ‘But I am here now. Please don’t be sad. I know I should have come sooner . . . but I did not know how to, I mean, it was not easy for me to do. And I was trying to concentrate on my studies. Harvard Law is no joke. I came so close to giving up so many times.’
    ‘Oh, you are a brilliant student. I am sure it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.’
    Lavanya’s throat choked at the pride in her mother’s voice. ‘It was too much sometimes, Mom. I had to give it everything I had to get through.’
    ‘I can understand that. I am not blaming you. I only wished that you would call more often. I have missed you.’
    Her mother looked old. Under the bright light coming from the window, Lavanya noticed for the first time the brown spots on the mounds of her mother’s cheeks, and how the creases around her eyes and lips had become much more pronounced. Her skin was not as tight and glowing as Lavanya remembered. She felt guilty for leaving her mother to grow old alone.
    ‘I missed you too, Mom.’ She barely managed to say the words. She could see her mother’s eyes shine with unshed tears. Lavanya ached knowing what she had inadvertently done to her mother by going so far away, for far too long. But she had not had a choice. She just had to get away from this place, and everything that had happened since, however painful, was collateral damage.
    Mrs Suryavanshi blinked away the tears from her eyes, and asked, ‘What are your plans, Lavi? How long are you here for? We want you to stay with us for as long as you can, but of course, you have a job and a life to get back to. I would like to be prepared for your departure this time.’
    ‘I, uh . . . I am here till the end of the month. Till New Year’s. Or maybe till the first week of January? I’m not sure about my plans yet.’
    ‘Have you taken leave from work?’
    Lavanya recalled the nasty exchange she had had with Mr Cather the last time she was at the Paxton-Stark-Meester offices. ‘Sort of.’
    ‘Okay. I hope your boss lets you extend your leave.’
    ‘Me too.’
    Mrs Suryavanshi opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, as if deciding against whatever she was planning to say.
    ‘Please don’t worry so much,’ offered Lavanya, ‘I am perfectly fine.’
    Her mother did not look convinced. ‘Why do I feel like you are hiding something?’
    ‘You always feel that way, but I am not. It has been so long since I was here last. That is why I am a little . . . confused, I guess? You know, this is all a little overwhelming,’ Lavanya gestured to the room in general. There was an old tattoo on her bedpost, barely visible. It looked like some sort of fantastical dragon-like creature. She remembered getting the temporary tattoo free with a stick of gum as a child. She ran her finger over what was left of the tattoo. ‘So many memories.’
    Mrs Suryavanshi smiled. ‘You used to put these ghastly tattoos everywhere around the house. And they are so tough to clean! Remember the heated conversations we would have about that?’
    ‘Why do you want to take them out? They are ugly, but they are cool.’
    ‘That reminds me, do you want to go through some of your stuff?’
    ‘What kind of stuff?’
    ‘We gave away most of your old clothes and shoes, but the rest is all here—your toys, photo albums, books, diaries, CDs, junk jewellery . . . all your things. I think you’ll feel better looking through them.’ Mrs Suryavanshi pulled out the under-bed storage, adding softly, ‘I know I do.’
    Lavanya could see her worn-out pink journal and her
Titanic
DVD in the box her mother opened up. She smiled tentatively. ‘Why not?’

    Shourya was having a good day. His mother and sister had agreed on everything so far,