Gāyathri was livid.

Discomfort raided from Shanta as she shuffled from one foot to the other, all the while attempting to apologise. And though Gāyathri pretended not to understand, it was clear that Shanta was flustered. And a little frightened, as though she had crossed an imaginary line that should not have been breached.

A little over three weeks and she had hoped that she and Shanta could be friends, they were close in age and Shanta appeared sensible despite her propensity to talk. Gāyathri did not mind, Shanta had various topics to talk about and since she had stayed with the family from the time she had been born, knew quite a bit about everyone. Knowledge which she shared as facts and not gossip, a difference that Gāyathri appreciated. She was also aware that Shanta knew exactly who she was and was grateful for no probing questions into her parents' relationship.

That was till today.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Gāyathri had been showing the dresses she had purchased during the previous week's shopping trip and was revelling in Shanta's enthusiastic appreciation. And the look of bewilderment and joy on Shanta's when she gave her the top that she had picked up on the spur of the moment? It was a wonderful feeling that left her warm and fuzzy in reflected joy.

It disappeared when Shanta questioned her. It was seemingly innocuous, but Gāyathri only heard the implied censure, "You like Chandra anna, a lot, do you not?"

Gāyathri had been folding away her new clothes when Shanta had posed that question. There was something in her voice, an odd note, a mix of emotions that Gāyathri could not identify. It was mild inquisitiveness with faint underlying hope, laced with apprehension. She detected a hint of suspicion and she picked up on it.

But rather than answer that question, she countered with a question of her own, the tone making it clear how offended she was.

"Would it be a problem with you?"

"No, no, akka just wanted to know..."

Shanta's hesitancy fuelled her anger and Gāyathri glared till Shanta almost burst into tears. In furious silence, she turned her back to continue folding her new dresses, aware of Shanta fidgeting behind her. She continued maintaining the silence long after Shanta's fleeing footsteps faded away, the anger refusing to relinquish its hold on her.

Once she packed the dresses, she sat on the bed, trying to find a reason as to why Shanta had asked that question. Yes, she did like Chandra a lot, but why did people assume that there was only one way you could like someone of the opposite sex? She could not identify the exact reasons why she liked Chandra, but something was comforting about his presence. Something that calmed and assured her, as though it was a reminder that she was not alone, that there was someone for her. There had been times when his words exasperated her, but over the last three weeks, she developed a respect for him.

There had been underlying affection too but how could anyone think that she was falling in love with him? Someone must have been voicing it or had put Shanta to interrogate her. But why would anyone have an issue? She had not been overtly friendly with Chandra nor had she gone out of her way to seek his company. Though there was the fact that she did speak to him the most, after the kids and Shanta.

Or was it because they thought she was like her mother? Her mother had fallen for a man who was twenty-five years her senior. Chandra would be about fifteen to twenty years older, but still, it would be easy to draw parallels.

Fury twisted inside of her and she paced her room, questions bombarding her. Did her grandparents also feel that way? And how about her aunts, Uma Atta might not jump to that conclusion but Vani atta would fly into a rage, reiterating that she had been right all along, and would gloatingly declare that Gāyathri was exactly like her mother.

She did not care what her Vani atta thought of her, she would not. But the injustice in that probability grated on her. Why did people assume? Why...?

Her train came to a sudden halt as a horrifying thought struck her. The fury subsided and fizzled out as slight panic surged through her. Oh God, did Chandra also think that? No, that was too distressing to think about and embarrassing. But then, for a couple of days, she had not seen him often, was he avoiding her?

Gāyathri cradled her left arm, to ease the ache in her shoulder. It had been healing well, but she must have strained it, trying on the dresses. She had not put them on completely, but holding against herself and parading in front of the mirror was strenuous enough. And tension brought pain anew. Squeezing her eyes tight, she tried to relax, the mental stain added to the physical ache. It was useless, eyes closed her mind seemed to drum up worse scenarios, she needed to get some clarity. There was no one whom she could talk it out with, the closest was Shanta and she had just alienated her.

At that thought, regret flashed through her, she might have been thinking too much and inferring too much from Shanta's query, it could be an innocent one. And regret burnt higher when she caught sight of the crumpled top at the doorway. Shanta must have dropped it when she fled in tears. Picking up the top, she carefully folded it and placed it in a bag.

Holding her arm closer, Gāyathri mulled for some more minutes, but it was clear. Irrespective of what Shanta might have meant, she had been rude. She had to apologise and do it immediately, however difficult it would be.

Any doubts she had disappeared when she re-read her father's note for the day. Sighing, she made her way downstairs, the faster she got over it, the better it would be for both of them.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Her room was on the second floor where the only other rooms was a guest room and a room for the cook. Both her room and the guest room had French windows that opened to the back of the house. There was a narrow sitting area that ran along the length of the rooms, from the stairs at one end and the elevator at the other. The sitting area had a large glass window and a central door that opened into the terrace garden, a view that Gāyathri always admired, irrespective of the time of the day. But not now, she was preoccupied with how exactly she was going to apologise. Yet she could not help thinking, the first time she had been shown her room, Lavanya had been hesitant, wondering if Gāyathri would be comfortable alone, for Yellamma would not be much of a company.

Gāyathri had been slightly apprehensive too but had welcomed the solitude.

It was strange how the state of mind influenced one's perception. For the past eighteen days, she had used the stairs to walk up and down, at least three times a day. And it was today, in her melancholic state that she observed the first floor.

Her father's room was below her room and larger too, for it also covered part of the upstairs guestroom. It was locked, as usual, which was when it registered, she had never seen it open. And she recalled that the kids mentioned that their parents' room was beside theirs. How had she missed those contrary facts?

Lavanya's room was at the opposite end of the second floor, the kids had shown it once. Large and airy, it had a row of windows on two walls, as it had occupied the corner of the floor. A couple of glimpses displayed Lavanya's personality. The room was bright and cheerful, sunlight streaming through windows flanked by sober curtains and a large vase of fresh flowers. There was a sitting area that separated her room from the kids, providing privacy and easy accessibility. Gāyathri had liked the idea but now she wondered as to why Lavanya had a separate room.

From the railing, she could hear the voices of the kids and her grandparents as they sat in the drawing-room below. As the same was open with a high ceiling, if she leaned over, she could see them too. She stood at the foot of the stairs, weighing her options; she could continue downstairs and go to Shanta as originally planned. Or she could walk towards the kids' bedroom, though there seemed no logical reason for doing so.

Rationality argued with curiosity and in a heartbeat, she made up her mind.

Her apology mission postponed, she walked down the corridor, her feet leading her to Lavanya's room. She rounded the corner, and stopped at the sitting area, into which the bedroom door opened. Some unknown instinct made her slow down and she almost turned back when she heard a voice. But her curiosity was kindled when she heard Lavanya's laughing reply, "Please, be serious, I have to fold these clothes and put them away before the kids come in. I rarely get a chance to work in peace..."

Her words were cut off with a shriek and a giggle. Unable to stop herself, despite her brain shrieking caution, she rushed forward and pushed open the door.

Only to be witness to a scene she had never imagined.

Lavanya gave a startled gasp and pulled herself free from Chandra's arms. Straitening her dress, she smiled and asked, "Gāyathri, come in. I did not hear you—

'yeah, you were so busy in his arms being kissed, it is obvious you are not aware of your surroundings...' she was not saying it out loud, but her face showed her emotion.

"— do you need something?"

The brazenness astounded her. Stunned with fury and dismay, Gāyathri simply stood without saying a word.