Uma woke up sweating. She hadn’t slept well at all.
She lay there watching the dawn sunbeams flow along the ceiling rafters. She was reminded of the small trail of blood on the verandah floor. Her stomach churned. Her mind rebelled at the thought of another day, but she tossed the bedsheet aside resolutely.
Two days and I’m still moping around! I have to get a handle on myself ! We will have tea, and it will be on the verandah!
Yesterday, the day after the beheading, she hadn’t stayed too long on the verandah. Jayan had tried to coax her to stay, but her normally practical self had gone into hibernation.
“It’s just been a day since the…the Vasantha incident. Why are we even trying to do this?” she had asked. She’d been frustrated by her husband’s ability to move on from the horror of the past day. But his simple answer had devastated her. “You’re a policeman’s wife now, Uma. I want you to be the strong woman I know you are.”Uma had bristled at his blasé suggestion, but decided to bite her tongue and give it a shot anyway. Easier said than done. She’d jumped every time someone walked by the gates,...
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