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Kunal?” said Mrs. Seth in a choked whisper. “Haven’t you suffered enough? The truth will only hurt you more.”
    â€œI don’t care,” he said. “I’d rather be miserable knowing the truth than live a lie for the rest of my life.”
    They both heard the thump of footsteps climbing the stairs. Mrs. Seth looked ready to faint. She clutched her heart, took a deep breath, and thrust the paper she was holding at him. “Here’s the letter your mother wrote when she left you at my doorstep. I never heard from her again.Though I tried hard to track her down, it was futile. All I could find out was that she was still in Bombay.”
    Kunal took the letter from her and scanned it. It was signed
Anahita
. There was no last name, no address. He crammed it into his pocket.The footsteps had reached the top of the steps. It could be no other than Sethji.
    â€œHer full name?” said Kunal. “Do you know where I can find her?”
    â€œAnahita Patel. Someone told me she was a financial analyst downtown.There are thousands of A. Patels in the phonebook so I didn’t even bother. Please go!”
    Kunal lunged forward and hugged Mrs. Seth tight. She hugged him back.
    The door flew open. Sethji’s bulk filled the entrance. He bellowed with rage, stomping towards them. “Gurpreet, what the hell are you doing? And what is this thief doing in our room? I’ll teach this boy a lesson he’ll remember for the rest of his life.”
    â€œNo!” said Mrs. Seth, shielding Kunal. “I won’t let you.”
    â€œIn that case, you need the first lesson, you wretched woman.” Sethji’s face was terrifying as he advanced on them, tugging at his moustache viciously.
    Mrs. Seth turned around, pushed Kunal out the door and slammed it in his face. Her scream echoed through the thin wood.Then there was silence.
    As Kunal walked alongside Vinayak in the darkness, he knew he would never forget Mrs. Seth’s last words to him. Or her scream.

chapter eight
    My dear Gurpreet,
    Â 
    I’m in trouble and I need your help. I’m leaving my son, Kunal, with you so that I can look for his father, Anurag. I used to pack his tiffin lunch. We got to know each other well and I fell in love. He loved me too, I know he did. But when I sent a note in his tiffin to tell him I was pregnant, I never heard back. I don’t know what happened.
    Of course, I was in such a panic when he didn’t reply that I broke down. Mother suspected something was wrong and forced me to tell her what it was.Then she went completely mad.Took me to Panchgani, where I had the baby. Mother doesn’t believe in abortions and thank God for it, because I know something happened which prevented my sweet Anurag from answering my letter. That day my regular dabbawalla was ill and a substitute was delivering the dabbas. Maybe he lost the tiffin.
    So here I am, back in Bombay. Mother is intent on dropping Kunal off at an orphanage, but I won’t allow it. I’ll track Anurag down and we’ll be a family again.
    Please look after my darling Kunal. It’s only for a week, but it’ll give us a chance to be a family. I know I’m assuming a lot, Gurpreet, but I also know a good friend like you will not deny me this chance to find happiness.
    One week is all I’m asking for and then he’ll be off your hands. I’ll be in your debt forever. Tell Kunal I love him.
    Â 
    You take care,
Anahita

chapter nine
    THE TINKLING OF A PRAYER BELL woke Kunal. Shafts of sunlight beamed at him through the bars on the window. Sleep receded and the world around him came into focus; a clean white room swirling with golden light, honks of impatient traffic from outside, a hint of sandalwood incense perfuming the air, and hard tile digging into his back.
    He sat up. He was still sore, but a good night’s sleep had made the pain bearable.The events of the previous night flooded his head