Rama watched the man take Srinivas’ pulse. He lifted her brother’s eyelid and looked in his eye. Rama knew he didn’t expect Srinivas to make it. He had to recover. Rama sat by the bed. I’ll tell him stories, remind him our destinies are joined.
“Do you remember,” Rama started, “our house by the sea at Dwarka?”
Rama talked all day. She held her brother’s head and wiped his face. She put liquid on a spoon and rubbed it over his lips. But it was no use. Rama watched the night deepen. The stars came out. Twinkled.
“Don’t take him,” she pleaded.
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