She turned on the television. The regional news channel was covering the flash flood — a ticker at the bottom, a reporter standing in front of what appeared to be a flooded road at a lower elevation than the gorge road, the reporter's voice saying the words "multiple road closures" and "rescue teams deployed" and "situation being monitored." The reporter did not say: school bus. The reporter did not say: thirty-two children. The news did not have that yet.
Sunita sat on the sofa with the television on and her phone in her hand and her husband next to her and she thought about Asha. Eight years old. First day of school at a new school, which Asha had been nervous about — she had said so on Sunday, sitting at the kitchen table, picking at her dinner. "What if I don't know anyone?" she had said. Sunita had told her she would know everyone by lunchtime, because Asha was the kind of person who knew everyone by lunchtime. This was true. It was the true and reassuring thing to say.
She thought about Asha on a school bus on a mountain road.
She picked up her phone and tried the Disaster Management number again.
This time it rang. Three rings, four. Then a woman's voice — professional, quick. "Rudraprayag Disaster Management. If you are calling about a person on the Kedarpur gorge road, please stay on the line, we are managing the situation." And then, before Sunita could say anything: "We have confirmed there is a school bus at approximately kilometer fourteen on the gorge road. We have contact with the adult on the bus. The bus is in a stable position. We have a ground team en route. Please give me your name and the name of your child."
Sunita gave her name and Asha's name. Her voice, she noted, was steady. She was proud of this in a distant way.
"Asha Mehta, Class 6-B," the woman confirmed. "She is on the bus manifest. We have confirmation that all children on the bus are accounted for." A pause. "The adult on the bus is a teacher. She is managing the children. She has been in contact with us. We are sending a ground team."
"Who is the teacher?" Sunita said.
"Her name is Priya Nair," the woman said. "She is the new Class 6-B teacher."
