this witless, even in her wildest dreams? Although Kiran was a compassionate man, his loyalties would surely lie with his own flesh and blood. Why would he want to help her? Just because he’d acted as her champion on a few difficult occasions it didn’t mean he was going to be disloyal to his family in times of crises. Aiding a truant wife was probably against the law, and Kiran didn’t appear to be the sort to resort to anything illegal.
After giving herself another minute to regain a little of her composure, Megha decided she would hide out somewhere for a day or two. Maybe Harini would take her in for a brief period. Harini was loyal to a fault.
Sometimes, when doing homework together as little girls, Megha had been mean to Harini, beyond mean, especially when Harini couldn’t figure out the answer to a problem. Megha had deliberately given her the wrong answer and watched her getting humiliated in Mother Doreen’s arithmetic class. Then the guilt would set in after Mother Doreen yelled at Harini or hit her over the knuckles with the sharp edge of the ruler. Megha would resort to apologetic hugs and regretful tears, promise Harini and herself she’d never do it again. But she’d do it again…and again. After all that, Harini had forgiven her. How could one not love a person like that dearly? It wasn’t until the girls had become teenagers that Megha had recognized her own malicious ways and stopped herself from mistreating such a wonderful friend. After that their friendship had become stronger.
So, how could Megha put her best friend through such deceit now, especially when the friend happened to be pregnant? Besides, Harini and her husband lived with the husband’s family. What would Harini’s in-laws say? She couldn’t throw Harini’s life in turmoil. So that option was out.
There was the women’s shelter in town, but someone had told Megha it was a smelly, grubby building filled with prostitutes and abused women battered beyond recognition. Even if she did go to that hellhole, the police were certain to look for her there.
She needed a plan right away. But no matter how many times and how many ways she examined the different options, she came back to a single solution: ask Kiran for a loan and then get out of town as quickly as she could. Kiran was her only hope. But would he be willing to help her? Well, she’d never know if she didn’t try.
With her mind finally made up, Megha rang the doorbell. There was no answer. Of course, Kiran had to be in bed at this hour. She repeatedly pressed the bell with no more luck than the first attempt. She wondered what was keeping him from answering the door.
Naturally Kiran would be astonished to see her. He might even ask her politely to go home to Suresh. If she refused, he’d probably threaten to turn her over to the police. Quickly she made a mental note of what she would say and how she would say it convincingly. She had to make him see reason. Being a practical and intelligent man, he’d be likely to listen to logic.
Just then a dark car drove up the street. She couldn’t recognize the exact color or the make from where she stood beside the metal railing of the landing, but she anxiously watched it come through the gates and enter the garage below. It disappeared from sight as it moved further inside and then came to a stop. The engine went silent.
A few seconds later she heard footsteps coming up the staircase—firm, heavy, masculine steps. Gripped by panic, she huddled close to the door. Her eyes darted about, making a quick survey of the landing for a place to hide. Unfortunately, there was none. This building probably had more lights than Rashtrapati Bhavan, the President of India’s official residence.
The person climbing the stairs would be sure to mistake her for a thief trying to break into Kiran’s flat. Total disaster! The police, neighbors, relatives—they would all converge upon her. And, the deadliest of horrors: Amma!
Taking a deep breath, Megha braced herself to make a run for it. Her only hope for escape would be to dart quickly past the unsuspecting stranger, fly down the stairs at lightening speed and disappear into the night before he knew what hit him. She’d have to count on the element of surprise to help her along. With any luck the person would be too stunned to react instantly. Clenching her fists, she readied herself for escape.
A split second later, instead of bewildering the man as she’d planned, it was she who became immobilized.
Kiran came into view as he reached the landing. Megha held her breath in. Their eyes collided and held for a stunned second. Her body tensed instinctively. Like a wild animal caught in the headlights, she stood poised to take flight in an instant. She had come all the way here to talk to Kiran, and yet, now that he stood before her, she’d lost her nerve. All she wanted to do was run.
The expression on Kiran’s face was wide-eyed astonishment. “Megha! What are you doing here?”
At a complete loss for words, Megha merely continued to stare at him, her heartbeat slamming inside her chest.
Kiran seemed to recover quickly. He made the first move. Stepping forward, he held his hand out to her. “Thank God you’re okay!”
Still dazed, but astounded at Kiran’s unexpected greeting, Megha took a step backwards, her eyes wary and unblinking. Something was odd about this scenario. Had he said thank God? He was supposed to be furious with her, wasn’t he? He should have turned her away or threatened to call the police. Instead he looked relieved and almost glad to see her on his doorstep. Was her traumatized mind playing tricks on her? She eyed him suspiciously, and took another step back.
But his expression still looked relieved and his hand remained extended. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. Megha couldn’t trust her own eyes or ears. Was Kiran playing a prank on her, only to trap her later? A flutter of fear went through her.
He stepped closer and took her clammy hands in his. “Megha, I went looking for you at your house, but Amma told me you were gone. The police have been summoned. It’s chaos over there. They’re frantically searching for you.”
So the hunt for her was already under way. And Kiran knew about it. Surely now he’d turn her over to the police. He had a clever way of getting her to trust him, too, pretending to be all concerned and sympathetic. She should have known. It was a stupid move on her part, coming to him for help.
Trembling, she withdrew her hands from his and held them behind her, backing into the corner until there was no place to go. The cool iron railing pressed against her side. Her lower lip started to quiver uncontrollably. Kiran stood only a couple of feet from her and she was trapped between him and the railing. He was a big, strong man. She’d never be able to escape, unless she arched her back and somersaulted over the balcony. And even that wouldn’t guarantee death from this height.
She was terrified of heights—they made her dizzy, but then what did it matter when she was hurtling down to meet her death? However, with her miserable streak of bad luck she’d probably end up with a broken neck and paralyzed for life. And wouldn’t Amma just love that?
No, she resolved in that instant, she wouldn’t let Kiran take her back to that slaughterhouse. She would make him see sense. She’d try that logical approach she’d been practicing during the last few minutes. She’d make it sound nice and rational, even fall at his feet and beg if necessary. If all else failed, only then would she throw herself over the balcony. It would surely be less painful than death by incineration.
However, instead of sound argument her voice erupted in a high-pitched torrent of desperate appeal. “I d-don’t want to go b-back, Kiran! Please, please, don’t make me go back. I can’t—”
“Shhh,” he interrupted. “It’s okay, Megha.”
“It’s not okay! They want to burn me to death because my
