Page 109 of No Boss
She laughed.
It slipped out before she could stop it. Bright. Unrestrained. The same laugh he had been chasing since he first heard it.
She tried to contain it. Failed. Shook her head at him.
He turned away, satisfied.
She walked toward the lead van, her heart doing something she refused to examine.
Inside the transport van, the metal floor still held warmth from the sun. A boy shifted immediately. “Space here, Hukum.”
Abhinav climbed in. The van jolted into motion, vibration rising through their bodies. A half-empty water bottle reached him. He drank and passed it back.
Conversation picked up. Cricket. A disputed run-out. Strong opinions.
Abhinav sided with the youngest worker. The boy’s grin broke wide, as if he had just hit a lottery.
The van struck a pothole.
Everyone lurched. Someone laughed. Then everyone was laughing, the kind that comes when the work is done and the body lets go.
Abhinav leaned against the metal wall, eyes lifting briefly to the ceiling.
Something opened within him.
He thought of the old man. Of his father in a hospital corridor, waiting for a child who was not his own. He thought of Meera building something from his family’s name and stepping away without leaving a trace of ownership. He thought of the tradition his family had upheld for generations.
Outside, Anand Mahal rose ahead, pink sandstone firm in the midday sun.
He watched it, then let his head rest back against the van.
???
Sarita and Naina sat in the car as the Haveli came into view. Naina had watched the transport van the entire drive. She had seen him climb in.
“He looked happy, Maa.”
Sarita nodded. “Yes.”
“Like before.”
Sarita’s fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “I had forgotten that.”
Naina drew in a breath. “I thought we had lost him. After Papa… when he just shut himself away. I thought that part of him would not return.”
“So did I,” Sarita replied.
The car turned through the gates. The van had already stopped. Workers climbed down, stretching, talking.
Abhinav stepped out last. Someone caught his hand. He laughed at a remark.
Sarita watched him. Naina reached for her hand. They remained where they were, engine off, watching him lift a container, pass it forward, say something that made the youngest boy grin.
Sarita’s vision blurred. She did not look away.
“Papa would have been so happy,” Naina’s voice broke.
Sarita’s hold tightened around her hand. “He knows.”
