Everyone had left the cemetery, except for Rehaan, Sitamma, and me. The air felt heavy with silence, and a cool breeze stirred the leaves around us. Rehaan turned to Sitamma and said, "Can you take her home? I need to head back to the station." 

Sitamma nodded without a word, signaling her agreement. Rehaan shifted his gaze to me, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly. 

"I'm fine. You go ahead," I assured him, managing a faint smile. He hesitated for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into his Jeep. The engine roared to life, and I watched as he drove off, leaving behind a swirl of dust in his wake. 

"Shall we go?" Sitamma asked gently, breaking the silence. 

"Yeah, let's go," I replied, my voice a little strained, still lost in my thoughts. 

As we walked out, we passed several other cemeteries, each one blending into the next, a reminder of lives once lived and now laid to rest. The path eventually led us past sprawling fields where farmers were hard at work under the sun—tending to paddy, groundnut, citrus groves, and maize crops. The scent of wet earth and freshly cut grass filled the air.

Sitamma pointed toward a patch of land in the distance. "That's our land ," she said quietly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. 

I looked at the land she was referring to, my mind racing with memories I had long pushed aside. It felt strange to see it now, a piece of my past still standing while so much had changed.

Along the way, we encountered several villagers. They paused from their work to offer their condolences, their voices filled with sympathy. "Stay strong," they urged me, their weathered faces showing genuine concern. I thanked each of them for their kind words, grateful for the support but finding it hard to maintain my composure.

When we finally reached home, I felt both emotionally and physically drained. Without a word, I headed straight to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, and as the cool water flowed over my skin, it brought a small sense of relief, like it was washing away the weight of the day, even if only for a moment. The steady stream helped me gather my thoughts, calming the storm in my mind.

After a quick shower, I dried off and changed into my pajamas, hoping for a brief moment of peace. But the silence was interrupted by the insistent ringing of my phone. It had been buzzing incessantly while I was in the bathroom, and I hadn’t bothered to check until now.

I glanced at the caller ID, and seeing the familiar name, I quickly answered.

"Hello?" I said as I answered the call.

"Good to know you're still alive!" Manasa's voice came through, sharp with a mix of concern and frustration. "We were beginning to wonder if you were dead or alive! Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You left with just a vague message about heading to India for an emergency. Fine, you had to go, but why didn’t you answer any of our calls or messages? We were losing our minds over here!"

Her words hit me like a wave, her genuine worry evident despite the irritation in her tone. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before replying.

"I'm really sorry, Manasa. Everything happened so quickly, and it just slipped my mind to update you. I’ve been trying to cope with… well, with everything."

There was a pause on her end, and when she spoke again, her voice softened, "What happened?"

With a lump forming in my throat, I forced out the words I had been dreading. "My father passed away." Even as I said it, it felt unreal, the weight of the loss sinking in deeper with each syllable. A silence followed, heavy and uncomfortable, as if the words hung between us, too painful to fully absorb.

After what seemed like an eternity, Manasa broke the silence, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "I’m so sorry... We’re coming to India. You shouldn’t be alone right now. Send me your home address."

Before I could respond or protest, the call abruptly ended, leaving me staring at my phone. Manasa’s abruptness was her way of dealing with worry, but in that moment, I realized how much I needed her presence, despite not knowing it myself.

After sending address to manasa, I took a moment to catch my breath and then glanced at my phone. I was shocked to see the flood of missed calls and messages waiting for me. There were dozens—friends, colleagues,all reaching out. I quickly started replying, sending out brief apologies and explanations, trying to keep it together. Amid the chaos, I realized I needed to inform my office and apply for leave.

I opened my email to draft a message to my team leader, but just as I was about to start typing, my phone screen went black. The battery had died. "Seriously? Now of all times?" I muttered in frustration, shaking my head.

I began searching for my phone charger in my room, but it was nowhere to be found. I rifled through drawers, checked under the bed, and even looked in the closet, but no luck. Growing more annoyed, I thought it might be in my handbag. I grabbed it, but after another search, it became clear the charger wasn’t there either.

Sighing, I decided to go downstairs and check if I had left it in the living room. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my bag lying on the sofa. Relieved, I made my way over to it. Just as I was about to grab it, I noticed Sitamma standing nearby, deep in conversation with someone at the doorway. She looked concerned, her usual calm demeanor replaced by something more urgent.

When she caught sight of me, she immediately ended her conversation and hurried over, her worry etched across her face.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, my own anxiety rising as I tried to read the situation.

"No, it’s my daughter, Radha," Sitamma said, her voice trembling with emotion. "She’s pregnant, and yesterday, she was in an accident." My heart skipped a beat as she spoke, but she quickly added, "Thankfully, both she and the baby are safe. But the doctors have advised her to stay on complete bed rest." Her eyes filled with worry. "Manohar, my son-in-law, came here to ask if I could go with him to take care of her."

I felt a pang of sympathy for Sitamma and immediately responded, "Of course, Sitamma. Go and be with her. She needs you the most right now. Don’t worry about me."

She hesitated, her concern shifting from Radha to me. "But how will you manage here? It’s your first time here, and I don’t want you to be alone, especially with everything that’s going on."

I could see the conflict in her eyes. She wanted to help her daughter, but she was also worried about leaving me behind, knowing the emotional burden I was already carrying. 

"I’ll be fine," I reassured Sitamma, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "You’ve done so much for me already. Radha needs her mother right now, and I’ll manage here. Don’t worry about me—I’ll figure things out."

Sitamma looked at me for a long moment, her eyes filled with concern, as if trying to decide whether I really meant what I was saying. She finally nodded, though I could see she was still torn between her responsibilities here and her worry for her daughter.

"But how will you manage? This is your first time here," she asked again, her voice heavy with concern.

"Don’t worry," I said, trying to ease her mind. "My friends are coming soon, and if I need anything, I can always ask Rehaan for help."

Sitamma let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God your friends are coming. I’ve been so worried about leaving you alone here, especially under these circumstances and in a place you’re not familiar with." She paused and then added, "You’ll have to adjust for a few days, though. I’ll arrange for another house help soon, but we’ve run out of groceries, so that’ll need to be handled in the meantime."

Her words started coming out in a rush, her worry spilling into her speech. "Okay, okay, I’ll take care of the grocery shopping and everything else," I said, trying to calm her down. "You just go and be with Radha. She needs you, and you shouldn’t worry about things here."

As she prepared to leave, I reached into my bag and pulled out some money, offering it to her. "Here, take this," I said, holding it out.

She shook her head firmly. "No, I can’t take this from you. You need it more right now."

But I insisted, gently pushing the money into her hands. "Please, Sitamma. You’ll need it for extra expenses, and I want to help. You’ve done so much for me already, this is the least I can do."

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes softening as she realized I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice filled with emotion. "You take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?"

"I will," I promised.

"Now, go take care of Radha," I said softly, meeting Sitamma’s eyes. "And don’t forget to take care of yourself too. You’re going to need your strength to look after her."

Sitamma smiled, though I could still see the lingering worry in her expression. "I will," she promised, though the weight of the situation was clear in her voice. "It’s just... after what happened, I can’t stop thinking about what might have been. But you’re right, I need to stay strong for Radha and the baby."

She held my gaze for a moment longer, as if silently conveying her gratitude and concern all at once. Then, after a deep breath, she finally stepped away, her movements hesitant, as though she didn’t want to leave me behind.

"I’ll call you once we reach, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask Rehaan. Please take care," she said, her voice soft but firm.

"I will, Sitamma. Don’t worry about me." I smiled reassuringly, watching her as she walked towards the door. She gave me one last nod before turning and disappearing from view.