Page 33 of The Promise of a Traitor

Advik looked up from the presentation his CTO had sent him. He’d been making notes, collating feedback, all to the background noise of Aastha frantically hissing and whisper shouting into her phone. Amyra’s offer of poker was a welcome break.

“I wouldn’t want to take your money,” he said, shutting his laptop and turning to look at the wan, tired little face on that hospital bed.

“What money? I don’t have any.” Amyra smiled wryly. “I’ll play you for matchsticks.” She looked so much like Aastha that it took his breath away. If not for the worry lines and tight, pinched look on Aastha’s face, the sisters could have been twins.

“I don’t have any,” Advik said. “Nor for that matter do I have cards.”

Amyra gestured to a small bag tucked into a corner of the attender’s bed, behind Aastha. “It has everything we need. Di and I often play.” When he only raised his eyes at her, she shrugged, wincing as the movement tugged on her IV line. “Not much to do during hospital stays.”

“You mean other than rest and get better?”

“Don’t be a bore.” Amyra rolled her eyes at him. “Just grab the bag.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?” Aastha hissed, doing her snake impression again.

Advik glanced at her and back at Amyra. “You want me to stick my hand behind that?” he asked, jerking a thumb at Aastha who was hunched over her phone, squinting at the screen like an old crone.

“Chicken.” Amyra smirked.

Aastha dialled someone and started a conversation with, “Listen dipshit…”

“Damn right I am,” Advik muttered. “You think I want to get in the middle of that? I’d be one hiss away from being spit roasted for the café’s dinner menu.”

Aastha’s head swivelled on her neck like something out of a horror movie as she turned to watch them laughing, her glare meant to incinerate but merely making them laugh harder.

“I fold,” Advik told Amyra in the middle of his laughing fit.

She made a mutant chicken clucking noise in response which dissolved into giggles.

“Stop it,” she hissed. “Both of you.”

It only made them laugh harder. With another fulminating look at the two of them, Aastha flounced out of the room, still shooting rapid fire questions at some poor soul on the phone.

Advik pulled the little bag over to him, unearthing the pack of cards and an overfull box of matchsticks. He’d just dealt the first round when Aastha walked in again. She stared at their little set up and then plonked herself on the other side of Amyra.

“Deal me in,” she ordered.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he muttered, collecting the dealt cards, shuffling and dealing again. Aastha’s phone started ringing even before he’d put down the last card.

“What’s going on Di?” Amyra asked.

Aastha sighed and shook her head. She moved matchsticks into the centre as part of her bid.

“Problems at the café?” Advik asked casually, doubling her bid with his own matchsticks.

“It’s nothing.” She frowned at her cards as Amyra shoved a few matchsticks in. “I fold.”

“You can’t fold,” Amyra yelped. “You’re Aastha Di. You don’t fold.”

Aastha shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “I don’t have the cards Amu. Not this time”

Advik looked down at the trio of Kings in his hand. This was about a lot more than cards. He dropped his cards, facedown, on the table. “I fold too.” He saw Aastha frown at him from the corner of his eye and shrugged. “I guess we were both dealt bad hands.”

Amyra eyed the little pile of matchsticks. “So these are mine then?” She made grabby hands at the pile. “Come to me, my babies. I’m rich.”

“Yes,” Aastha agreed drily. “If you ever need to start a career in arson, you will have all the tools you need at your disposal.”

Her phone rang again cutting her off. “Rohan,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’re going to need to find the manpower immediately. The Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory can’t shut down because three people decided to return to their villages without notice.”