Her mother stared at her for a long, silent moment before walking out.
Hena had set her bags down. She’d barely caught her breath when her mother returned, shoving an envelope into her hands.
She looked inside—cash. “I have enough—”
“You want to go? Then go,” her mother said. “You want to pretend you’re not part of this family, so be it. I told you about that boy, didn’t I? I warned you over and over, but Hena does what Hena wants. You have caused me more grief than I ever imagined.”
“Ammi—” Hena’s anger drained, replaced by a sudden, heavy grief. “I’m sorry. I’ll come back. I’ll visit—”
“Don’t bother,” her mother replied. “We’ll just pretend you’re dead.”
She had stayed true to her word. Not a phone call or a text in over three years. Now Hena was back, and her mother lay supine on this bed. Now she was dying. Hena clutched the railing tighter. Just because your mother didn’t love you the way you needed her to didn’t mean you stopped craving it.
Hena heard the front door open in the distance. Moments later, her aunt stepped inside. Coming closer, she took Hena’s hand and squeezed it. Hena gave her a grateful smile.
“Are you all right?” Khala asked in a whisper. “I heard about the snakes. Terrifying. They said the thing nearly squeezed the poor girl’s breath away.”
Hena suppressed an eye roll. Rumors. Always a pinch of truth with a dash of baseless chatter.
“The snake didn’t do anything,” she told her. “But a python can kill you even if you’re not its natural prey.”
“What’s this about pythons?” Her mother’s eyes fluttered open.
Whoops. Had they been talking too loudly?
“We have a snake infestation. Pythons, Frida.” Khala shuddered. “Maheen’s daughter was keen on petting one. Hena saved the little girl’s life.”
Hena expected her mother to be horrified, but instead, she chuckled as she raised her bed with the remote.
“History repeats itself, doesn’t it?” she said.
“It certainly does,” Khala replied, a knowing look passing between them.
Hena frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You were about three years old when one of those things slithered into the sandbox behind my duplex,” Khala told her.
“That one wrapped itself good and well around you,” her mother said.
“Me?” Hena gaped at her. “I have no memory of that.”
“Count your blessings, because I remember it all in terrifying detail.” Khala shivered. “I panicked. Your mother leapt to action. She banged a pot against its head and wrenched it off with her bare hands.”
“It was a small snake, as far as pythons go,” Ammi said.
A funny feeling passed through Hena.
“You saved my life,” she said.
“It’s what mothers do,” said Khala. “They protect their children at all costs.”
“It’s what mothersshoulddo,” Ammi corrected. “A python was simple enough. People were the true challenge.”
“Now, now.” Khala smoothed her hands over her dupatta. “No need to dwell on all of that.”
“I’ll be dead soon enough. When else can I dwell?” Ammi replied.
Hena tensed. They were talking about her father. They never spoke of him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to start now. Luckily, Lulu stepped into the room, which meant this line of conversation was closed. At least for now.