"You keep me sane."
...
"Stop crying, damn it," Rudy and Ayan groan.
I cover my face in my hands, crying even more. "Go away."
"This is all your fault," Ayan says, glaring daggers at Rudy.
"For the umpteenth time, I mixed the drinks by mistake!" Rudy mutters in annoyance, "When I found out, it was too late, she was halfway through her second drink. Dude, I'm terrified of her so I didn't say anything!"
I take my wailing up a notch and they both insert their fingers in their ears.
"Why isn't she screaming at me?" Rudy asks Ayan who shrugs. "Tell her to shout at me.
"TELL HER TO STOP. She's hurting my ears."
"Naira-" Ayan breathes.
"Don't talk to me," I say as tears spill down my face. "Go die."
"You're overreacting," Rudy observes. "You're acting like that drinking is the end of the world."
"Really?" I look at him teary eyed as I burst out, "I HAVE A FUCKING HANGOVER. I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT AT ALL EITHER. MOREOVER, I HAD VOWED TO NEVER DRINK OR SMOKE. Wait, who changed my clothes?"
I jerk my head around and look at Ayan accusingly.
"Emily changed them," he says, surrendering his hands up in the air. "And stop complaining about your hangover. I've given you the cure. For God's sake, drink it."
"It has ginger in it." I wrinkle my nose as a wave of nausea floods in.
My shoulders wrack with every sob that forces its way out and I narrow my eyes at Rudy, balling my hands into fists. Rudy's eyes widen as he steps backwards.
"Naira?"
Relief washes over Rudy's face as he glances at Tara.
"Are you crying?"
"No," I whisper, biting back tears that are threatening to spill out.
"Pwease don't cry," she wipes my tears and climbs in my lap.
'She needs new clothes', I think glancing at her unwashed skirt.
I take a moment to calm down and when I'm done crying, I ask, "Did you eat?"
She shakes her head as her stomach grumbles.
"Why didn't you ask someone to fee-"
"That's good," Rudy interrupts. "I haven't eaten either. I'll feed her."
I give him a flat look as he takes her from my lap. He gives me a sheepish grin as he turns to leave the room.
"Be careful today. I'm watching you," I say bitterly to him. Ayan hides his smile behind his hand.
"Ayan..." I squeeze my eyes shut as the aching in my skull ebs. "She needs new clothes."
"I'll tell Emily and Sasha to take care of that. Can you get ready in twenty? We have to leave for the police station."
I nod as I run my fingers in my hair, hoping the ache will go away.
I murmur, "So..."
He furrows his eyebrows. "So... ?"
"What kind of a drunk am I?" I ask, averting my gaze.
A mischievous grin creeps its way onto his face as he rubs his hands excitedly.
...
"You look fresh," I joke as we wait in the waiting area.
"You look like a mess," Zubair shrugs as Tara giggles when Ayan tickles her.
I smile at them and ignore his retort as I ask, "Did you... ?"
He looks at me amused as he nods his head.
"I see." I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from asking further questions.
It's not my place.
"Remember we're all here with you. Just tell police uncle all you know, okay? He'll help you. If you want to stop, we'll stop. Okay?" Ayan comforts Tara as a Police Constable directs us in.
The officer Vijay Kumar - as the tag on his uniform suggests - motions us to take a seat and then asks, "What can I help you with?"
"We want to file a missing person's complaint," Ayan answers.
The officer raises an eyebrow as he questions, "May I ask who this person is?"
"Tara's mother. We found her crying in Bondla Wildlife Sanctuary. Some stranger had lured her there and then left her," Ayan says, gesturing towards Tara.
"I'll have to investigate a little before I file an FIR," he says as he takes a sip of his water.
"So Tara..." He glances at her. "Do you want to go home to your mother?" When she nods her head, he continues, "In that case, you'll have to tell me about your parents. How they look... where they live... when did you last see them... everything. If you won't tell me, I won't be able to help you."
Tara looks at me and I nod at her and smile, stroking her head.
"I- I don't know who my father is," she whispers. "Whenever I asked mom about him, she changed the topic."
I rub her back as she continues, "Um, my mom... she's older than all of my friends' mothers. She's in her forties, always wears a sari, has brown wavy hair that reaches her thighs... I love her hair." Tara grins and the officer smiles back at her. "We lived in Mumbai but came to Goa a week ago. She took me to the r-rest-t-raunt yesterday. Then she went to use the washroom but never came back. An uncle said that he'll take me to mom so I went with him. He took me to the zoo saying that she is waiting for me there and then he left me too."
"Do you know any phone numbers?"
When Tara shakes her head, he sinks back into the chair he's seated in and sighs. "I need a photo of her. I will have to dispatch to the other units and check if her mother has filed a missing report for Tara. If nothing pans out, I'll have to consider the possibility that her mother might have been kidnapped."
Tara winces and hugs my leg tightly. The officer walks up to Tara and bends down, and with a soft voice, assures her, "We will find her. I promise you."
He has the face of a father, a father who understands Tara's pain. Tara peeks at him with eyes filled with hope.
The hope of finding her mother.
I hug her and place a soft kiss on her head.
"How long will it take?" I ask him and he smiles at me. "Let's hope for the best."
Ayan and Tara leave to get a recent photograph clicked of the latter and in the meantime, Zubair and I fill the missing person form and formally file RTI.
After submitting everything, we thank the officer for his help and leave the station.
"We're just here for three days. What if... what if we don't find her mother?" I voice out worriedly to Ayan, voicing my thoughts. "What will we do then? Prolong our stay or... take her with us? Who'll take care of her?"
Zubair gives us a moment and distracts Tara by showing her a video on his phone.
Ayan runs a hand in his hair. "I don't know."
"She doesn't deserve this, you know?" I say glancing at her smiling as a lone tear traces down my cheek. "No child does."