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Chapter 23

It was late evening by the time Abhijat reached home. Stepping through the gates into the tiny garden, he looked wistfully up at the stately brown-and-white house. It was where he and his sister had spent their childhood; where his grandfather had spent the last days of his life. It was a part of him.

Though old, the house was well maintained and retained much of its original beauty. The brick façade and large, wood-framed windows reminded Abhijat of his grandfather’s booming laughter, and the aroma of a home-cooked lunch wafting through the garden as he helped Rito build mud-castles near the flower beds. He remembered playing in this garden, pushing a giggling Rito on the swing even as their mother admonished them through the kitchen window to slow down, to be careful.

How he had wished to be back in this house every time he was home on leave over the past three years. How he had missed it in the cavernous rooms and elegant chambers of Qayit Hall.

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And now he was back, the soft grass of the front yard under his feet, the polished wood front door welcoming him home. And it felt more like an exile than a homecoming.

His gut clenched with an emotion he couldn’t name, and he grit his teeth before making his way down the garden path and up the stairs to the front door. Sucking in a deep breath, he took hold of the metal knocker with the lion’s head at its base and knocked twice, sharply.

It wouldn’t do to return home in a bad mood. The last thing his parents needed now was to have to deal with their eldest child’s inability to manage his own emotions. Standing up straight with his shoulders back, he tried to make himself smile. Confident and happy. If he could give his mother nothing else, he could at least give her this.

The lock clicked and the ancient door creaked open.

And then a tall, chubby creature launched herself at him with an excited war-cry that might have been some distorted sisterly rendition of his name.