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“But... I have so many questions! What about surgery? Chemo? And what does ‘long’ even mean?!” Reeva looked frantically from one sister to the next. “Is she okay?! I need more info!”
“She’s in the hospital,” explained Jaya. “She came over this morning to meet Mum and she collapsed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” cried Reeva. “I would have come immediately!”
“Your phone is off,” said Sita. “We’ve been trying all day.”
Reeva’s face paled. Why hadn’t she tried to call Satya Auntie that morning? She’d been speaking to a bloody notebook and a hypnotherapist while her aunt was dying. “Oh my god. Why didn’t you e-mail me?”
“Because I’m not your goddamn secretary,” cried Sita.
“Sorry,” said Reeva. “It’s my fault. All of it. Okay, well, we need to go. To Leicester. Now.”
Sita put out a hand to stop her. “Just... calm down. The doctors said she’s stable. We were with her all day. She’s not allowed visitors this late, so it’s best if we just go first thing tomorrow morning.” Reeva sat mute, feeling like a child as Sita calmly told her everything she needed to know. “She already had surgery and chemo when she was first diagnosed around a decade ago.It’s why she quit the nunnery and came to Leicester to see Dad. She wanted to repair their relationship before she died. She didn’t expect him to die first.”
Reeva closed her eyes and dropped her head into her hands. “This is so fucked up. Why is everyone dying?”
Jaya looked at her in sympathy. “I know, babe. But the doctors are seriously impressed with Satya Auntie. Apparently, people with her condition normally die in fewer than five years. And she’s almost doubled that.”
“But can’t they do any more for her now? More surgery or chemo or whatever?”
Sita shook her head. “It won’t make a huge difference. And Satya Auntie’s against it. She doesn’t want to spend the end of her life in pain. Especially when it’s not going to save her life.”
Reeva leaned back against the sofa, feeling a wave of anger wash over her. “Fuck.Fuck. I fuckinghatethis!”
“Uh, are you okay?” asked Jaya cautiously. “You’re shouting.”
“No, I’m not okay,” cried Reeva. “I only just met Satya Auntie and now she’sdying? This is bullshit! First Dad, now her? I’ve only known she existed for, what, twelve days, and now she’s going to die? It’s notfair.It’s not enough time. I need more time with her.”
Sita nodded. “I know. She’s the best person we’re related to, and she’s leaving us. Now that we know the whole secret, I kind of understand why Mum kept Dad from us—even though it’s a massive overreaction and they went on with it for way too long—but keeping Satya Auntie from us was flat-out idiocy. She could have saved us years in therapy.”
“She’s just so wise,” said Jaya sadly. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without her.” A tear slid down her cheek.
Reeva closed her eyes. She wanted to cry too, but she was tooangry. She had so much she wanted to talk to her aunt about, and she wanted years to do it all in, not weeks. Months? Years? She opened her eyes. “Wait, exactly how long do the doctors think she has?”
“They won’t say,” said Sita. “It’s fucking annoying. But reading between the lines, they think a few months is a really good outcome. So it could still be less time. But knowing Satya Auntie, it could be another year.” She hesitated. “It’s doubtful it’ll be more than that.”
Reeva’s face crumpled. A year. That was the maximum amount of time she had left with her aunt, and even that was unlikely. She felt her shoulders shake as the anger turned into excruciating sadness and she began to sob.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.”
Reeva looked up in surprise. Both her sisters had moved to sit on either side of her. Jaya was stroking her back with her right hand, while Sita was murmuring reassuring things to her into her ear. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d sat so close to each other by choice. She cried even louder.
—
The three sisterswere sitting on Reeva’s bed in their pajamas eating hummus, crisps, and breadsticks while sipping herbal tea in solidarity with Jaya, who had admitted she was sick of pretending to drink wine. She’d changed into her cream silk cami and tiny shorts, while Sita was wearing one of her old maternity tops (“They’re so much comfier than normal clothes”) and Reeva was in a button-down cotton PJ set that made her both look and feel like a child. They’d contemplated taking their midnight feast to the bathroom for continuity’s sake, but snacking inside ashower cubicle—even a large walk-in rainforest one—hadn’t lived up to lounging in a bathtub.
“It feels weird that you guys are here,” commented Reeva. “I never imagined you being in my flat. Or on my bed. It’s all verysisterly.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure how I feel about it,” said Sita. “I don’t want us to start making a sisters’ WhatsApp group or some bollocks. And I refuse to be your bridesmaid, Jaya.”
Jaya looked awkward. “Um, I, like, didn’t know you’d want to be. So, I already asked Svetlana and Saskia—my best friends? But I can maybe—”
“Are you kidding me?” interrupted Sita. “There isnoway I would want to be your bridesmaid and wear some tiny skimpy thing that makes me look like a whale next to you. Let your Russians do it instead.”
“How did you know they’re Russian?” cried Jaya. “Do you follow them on Insta?”
“Dear god,” breathed out Sita. “How are we related?”
