Chapter 13 — Priya Finds Out

It was Priya who found out. It would be, of course.She called on a December evening when the city was just beginning its grudging acknowledgement of winter — cold air and the smell of something burning somewhere."I need to come over."Maya read her tone. "What happened?""I'll tell you when I get there."She arrived twenty minutes later with wine and the expression Maya associated with important news — a tightness around her eyes that Priya could not fully control.She sat down on Maya's sofa. She poured the wine. She said:"Rohan knows someone who works in oncology. He went to med school with him. They were talking at a thing last week and — Maya, I need you to listen to me and not say anything until I'm finished."Maya set down her wine glass."Daniel Ward has a brain tumour," Priya said. "Glioblastoma. Terminal. He was diagnosed in February, before you met him. He came to this city — he chose this city — specifically because he had no connections here. He didn't want anyone to know."The room was very quiet."Rohan's contact didn't treat him directly — this was secondhand — and I know this is—" Priya stopped. "Maya."Maya was looking at the window.She was thinking about the Tuesday afternoon he'd said: I think about tomorrow. If tomorrow is good, I think about the day after.She was thinking about the fight. The Christmas plans. I can't make that kind of promise right now.She was thinking about what he'd said at the door, at 3am, in October: I'm keeping something from you. I know that's not fair. When I'm ready — when I can — I'll tell you.She was thinking about the way he'd kissed her at dawn, after the long night on the floor. The way it had felt like a decision made in full.Like a decision that knew it had a last date."He left to protect me," she said. Her voice was strange even to herself. "He didn't want me to watch him—"She stopped.Priya moved to sit beside her. She took Maya's hand."How long," Maya said. Not a question. She was working something out."I don't know exactly. If he was diagnosed in February and chose not to do treatment—""He left in November." Maya was doing the arithmetic that she did not want to be doing. "If it was six to nine months without treatment—"Priya's hand tightened around hers.Maya stood up. She went to the drawer in the kitchen — the one she'd been avoiding for weeks — and took out the index card. Four sentences. His handwriting.She looked at it differently now.I'll explain when I can.She thought: when I can. Not when I want to. When I can."I have to find him," she said."Maya—""I have to find him, Priya."Priya looked at her for a long moment. Then she said: "Okay. Let's find him."