by P. G. Van
She looked at him for a long moment. “I am trained to know when someone speaks from their heart. If you need me to help you, you need to tell me the truth, nothing but the truth. You can trust me. This is a safe environment.”
She turned away from him and left him standing, somewhat shocked. His mentor was right about her. It was not going to be easy for him to convince the woman to return to India. If there was a chance for him to take her back to India, he needed to gain her trust. He was going to do that no matter what it took.
Later that evening, Samraat was on the small porch just outside the cabin he was occupying at the facility when Mr. Sharma called.
“Sir, I met her today.”
“Samraat, how is she? Did you talk to her?” The man sounded eager.
Samraat stepped back indoors and closed the door behind him. “Yes, sir. I met her, and as you insisted, she is assigned to help me.”
“Did you ask her why she left home?”
Samraat knew Mr. Sharma was desperate. “Sir, I did not, and I don’t intend to so soon. She has no idea I am here because of you, so I cannot let that out and potentially risk losing track of her again.”
“Why is she in hiding, Samraat?”
“It’s a good question, sir, and I wanted to ask you the same. She not only left home but also changed her name. She is not Minerva anymore.”
“Why?” Mr. Sharma sounded extremely upset.
“Sir, give me some time, and please do not call me. I will find the right time to call you and give you updates.”
“Please bring her home, Samraat. I don’t know why my daughter has to work two jobs when she has all this fortune and family.”
“I will do my best, sir. Please be patient and wait for my call.” Samraat ended the call and looked out of the window when he picked up some movement in his peripheral view.
He stepped closer to the window when he saw his person of interest playing basketball with a young girl. He smiled when he heard the squeals from the teenager as M stole the basketball from her to score. She was going to be M until she told him her real name.
His mentor’s daughter looked very different in the athletic shorts and snug-fitting t-shirt she was wearing than when she came to see him earlier in the day. She had worn a long, loose-fitting tunic all employees wore at the facility and appeared somewhat intimidating.
He kept his eyes locked on her movements, unable to comprehend why a woman who had everything anyone could ask for in their lives, chose to leave home and never return and not intending to return.
Chapter 4
It had been a few days since Samraat had met M, and since then, they met daily. He could tell she was frustrated with him and knew it was because he stuck to the story about how his girlfriend dumped him—a fake sob story.
M was nice the first couple of sessions but started to show her unhappiness at how shielded his real information. That morning, he woke up to loud banging on his door. He went to open it in his sleep shorts to find M standing outside the door, looking remarkably composed, but her eyes didn’t lie. She was livid.
“Samraat, good morning. Would you mind putting on some clothes and meeting me at the art center?”
“What?” Samraat looked down at his body and realized he had not even put on a t-shirt.
“I need to shower.” He yawned.
She held the face of her watch toward him. You were supposed to meet me at nine.”
“I… I overslept.” The truth was he was secretly working, attending meetings at night, although it was against the facility’s policy.
“I have until eleven to be with you… to work with you. Would you mind putting on some clothes?”
Samraat chuckled when he realized she was feeling uncomfortable being around him but was still stealing glances at his chiseled chest. Although dressed as a sage, he was relieved she was still a woman who could be distracted by the sight of a bare chest. His mentor’s dreams of getting his daughter married weren’t entirely dead, provided she agrees to go back to India with him.
“Give me a few minutes. I can make myself presentable.”
“Please do.” She sounded very professional.
He chuckled as he turned away and knew she was probably fuming but still maintained her composure. “Won’t be long.”
When he stepped out ten minutes later, he could sense the underlying frustration even through her calm demeanor. “Samraat, it’s been almost a week since you arrived, and I have not been able to understand you and your issues. I cannot help you if you cannot trust me.”
“How can I trust you when you don’t even tell me your name?” he retorted.
“Why does my name matter?”
“It does to me. The name of a person defines their personality to some extent, and I need to know you not as Mother or M but your real name.”
She looked at him for a long moment as if considering telling him, and when she did, he had another surprise.
“My name is Naina.”
Naina? Another fake name? Not Minerva or Kiara. She was giving him another fake name.
“For real?” he asked, not letting his mind wander.
“Why? Does it not suit me?” She smiled.
He smiled back and said, “I was expecting your name to start with an M because that’s how I have been referring to you in my thoughts.”
She smiled, and he didn’t see signs that she was faking it. “So, now that you know my real name, let’s talk.”
The following morning, Samraat woke up early to go for a run. He had spent the past few days indoors covertly connecting to the facility’s network to search for any additional information he could find on Naina. He followed the path to the man-made pond that was in the middle of the facility. It was still too early for people to be up, and the only ones he saw at that time were the guards stationed along the way.
He picked up his pace from a jog to a run as he moved away from the residential side of the large facility that spread over one hundred acres, which was not very far from the hustle and bustle of the famous Las Vegas Strip. He had no idea how he was going to convince a woman to return home with him when he had no clue what was going on in her life.
Samraat ran along the pond making mental notes of what to tell Naina to get her to believe his story. His records at the facility indicated he was upset about the breakup, and he could not understand why Naina did not believe his I-am-heartbroken-because-my-girlfriend-dumped-me story. How could he be more convincing?
The only way was for him to become friends with her, and then halfway through his sessions, request the facility to send her to India with him to continue his counseling while taking care of his business. That seemed to be the only viable option, even though a little far-fetched.
He knew she would hate him for doing that when she finds out his real intentions, but he didn’t care. He would have done his job of finding her for his mentor in return for a debt he could never repay.
Samraat slowed down his steps when he saw two women walking toward him in the early morning fog on the same path in the opposite direction he was going. As he got closer, he recognized the taller woman as Naina, and the other was the girl who she was playing basketball with earlier in the week. He slowed down and halted his run, a smile forming on his face.
Naina had not seen him yet as he stood to wait for her to notice. He had moved into the facility for such opportunities and would use every chance he could get to connect with her.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice out of breath when they reached him.
The women stopped talking and walking and looked at him in silence for a moment. “Good morning.”
“Do you take a walk every morning?” Samraat asked and was surprised to see the annoyance on Naina’s face.
The annoyance disappeared as she took a deep breath. “We don’t, but I wanted to take a walk with her since I have been reassigned to work with only you.”
He chuckled, knowing that Mr. Sharma had asked for her
dedicated time. “I thought you couldn’t do that.”
She smiled in response, but Samraat saw the annoyance creep back in her eyes. “I now understand the reason for you needing my full attention.”
“Mom, I will be okay. I just want to take a morning walk and play basketball with you.” The teenage girl smiled.
“Mom? You seriously call her that?” Samraat laughed.
Naina ignored him and looked at the girl. “Some people have a problem following rules, but most enjoy working with their advisors as if they were their parents.”
“So weird.” He shook his head, keeping an eye on Naina’s expression.
“It’s not.” Naina’s tone was firm as she held Samraat’s gaze, and he held hers in a challenge. He knew he was irritating her, but that was the only way to shake up her thoughts.
The young woman’s giggle cut through the friction that was building, making them look at her. “I’m Monica. Nice to meet you.”
Samraat smiled and took the girl’s extended hand in his and gave it a friendly shake. “I’m Samraat. I would like to join your game of basketball.”
As if in response to his words, the girl’s smile froze, she pulled her hand away from his, and without another word, she turned away and took off.
“Monica… what’s wrong?” Naina asked, but Samraat was not listening. Instinct told him to start following Monica.
Samraat ran behind the girl, and he could hear Naina call out to her as she ran behind him. The guards who stood at the entrance of the residential area stopped Monica and held her, but she fought them.
“Let her go,” Samraat ordered as he got closer, but the guards would not take his order. “I said, let her go.” He got closer to the guards who held Monica against the wall and pushed both men away, freeing the young woman. She took off again, running toward the cabins.
Naina was quick to order the guards down as Samraat continued to follow the girl who kept running away from them. She ran to her cabin and pushed open the door. Samraat sped up so he could stop her from closing her door. The girl stepped into the cabin, and Samraat was quick to prevent the door from closing.
“Monica, what’s wrong??”
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”
He stood looking at her as Naina came into the room and walked to where Monica sat, her head cradled in her hands, weeping. She put her arms around the girl who was sobbing and held her close to her. “Talk to me.”
Moments passed, and Monica would not stop crying, so Naina let her cry. Samraat could not handle it anymore. The teenager’s tears bothered him, and he took a few steps closer to kneel on the floor next to where Monica sat, covering her face.
“Monica, no one can help you if you don’t talk. No one.” His voice was firm, and that made her sobs die down. “You can cry all you want after you tell us why you are so upset, so we can help.”
“Samraat,” Naina growled in warning to his curt tone.
He ignored Naina’s tone and took both of Monica’s wrists to move her hands away from her face. “She is here to help you as a friend. You need to tell her what’s wrong.”
The next instant, Monica let out another sob and threw her arm over Samraat’s shoulders, hugging him and crying again. He was taken back by Monica’s sudden burst of emotion and looked at Naina looking equally surprised.
Samraat patted the girl on her back trying to calm her down, and Naina looked at him in silence as if she didn’t know what to say. He gave Monica a few moments before pulling back to look at her. His hand went up to her cheek to wipe off the girl’s tears. “You can tell me what’s wrong if you don’t want to talk to your Mommy.”
A smile broke on the girl’s face, and she let out a low sob before laughing. “I hate calling her Mom. She is like my friend.”
Samraat laughed and said while looking at Naina, “See, I am not the only one who thinks it’s crazy to call random people Mother.”
Monica joined the laughter, and Samraat saw relief sweep over Naina’s face. She smiled, rolling her eyes. “Whatever.”
Samraat looked at Monica, who was now smiling. “You okay?”
Monica nodded. “You… Samraat… you remind me of my brother, Sameer. I… I miss him so much.”
Samraat looked at Naina and saw the confused look on her face. He looked at her for a long moment, and she shook her head slowly indicating she didn’t know about Monica’s brother. He nodded and asked, “Did you talk to her about your brother?”
Monica shook her head and looked at Naina, looking guilty. “No, I’m sorry.”
Naina smiled. “It’s okay. You can talk to me when you are ready to talk about him.”
Monica looked relieved. “I miss him. He was my only friend and…”
“Where is he?” Samraat interjected.
Naina remembered the details about her brother from her file and was about the interject when Monica looked at Samraat and said, “He left me… why did cancer have to take him?”
“I’m sorry.” Samraat’s voice held compassion.
“I’m angry. How could he do this to me?” Monica cried.
Naina was at a loss for words and didn’t know what to say as she had not taken a detailed look into Monica’s brother’s information. Samraat took Monica’s hand and said, “You can’t be angry with him. He is your brother, and if he left you, you need to accept that he had no choice. You can’t be angry with him.”
Monica sniffled. “I have no one else who cares for me. My parents are divorced and remarried, and they have their own kids. I am a pain to both of them. Nobody wants me.”
Naina interjected before Samraat could say anything. “Samraat, can you please give us a few moments? I need to speak to Monica.”
“Sure. I’ll be in my cabin if you want to see me, Monica.” He stood up and was about to leave when Monica called out to him.
“Samraat, meet me at the basketball court at five.” She smiled.
Samraat nodded and looked at Naina, who looked at him, her eyes unreadable. It felt like she didn’t like the fact that Monica opened up to him instead of her.
“I will see you at nine, Samraat,” Naina called out as he stepped out and was closing the door.
Samraat left Monica’s cabin feeling the pain of the girl who lost her brother, a loved one, a sadness that he had endured as an eleven-year-old.
Later that morning, Samraat waited for Naina in his cabin. He had a list of topics to make Naina talk about her past and steer her clear of prying into his details. He had no intention ever to talk about his past, at least not the truth. That was only for him to remember and never talk about. He looked up when there was a knock on his door.
“Come in,” he called out, standing up to walk toward the door as it opened slowly.
Naina stepped in looking somewhat down, but she smiled as soon as their eyes met. “Good morning.”
“Hello, again. How is Monica?”
She nodded, looking away from him, and he didn’t like the gloom he saw in her eyes. “She is okay. She is in her art class today.”
“Everything okay with you?” he asked and saw the surprise in her eyes.
“Yes. Why do you ask?” She brushed off his question, but he knew it had something to do with Monica even though Naina would not tell him, of all the people, if there was really anything wrong.
“No reason. So, are you ready for our session?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
“Yes, and I want you to talk before I tell you everything.” He saw the surprise on her face.
“That’s not how it works.”
“I want to know the person who I am going to be opening up to and not just the person’s name. I need to know a bit more about you if you need me to start talking.” He crossed his arms over his chest watching her hold his gaze as if thinking of the pros and cons.
After moments of silence, she spoke, “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Everything, and I can tell if you are lying.” He laughe
d, gesturing her to take a seat in one of the chairs in the living room.
“Let’s see.”
Chapter 6
“What is your real name?” Samraat asked, knowing she wouldn’t tell him the truth.
“Naina.”
“Why are you here?” He looked around his cabin.
“To help you get over your internal conflicts and challenges.”
He shook his head. “I meant, why are you working at this facility?”
She shrugged. “It’s my job. I am trained to be a healer, and I enjoy what I do.”
“What does your family think of your job?”
She hesitated for a moment. “My parents are no more.”
He knew she wouldn’t be comfortable speaking about her father, but he was surprised by her blatant lie. “I’m sorry.”
“What about your parents?” He was surprised by the sudden interjection of her question.
“They passed away when I was eleven.” He didn’t intend to tell her anything about himself, but the response was out even before he thought through it.
“What happened?”
He went silent, not wanting to give her more details. “Wasn’t this about me knowing more about you?”
“We can spend days talking about me, but we need to get to talking about you.” Her tone was firm. He continued to look at her with no response or a question for her, and she added, “I cannot help you if you don’t open up and tell me everything.”
“What if I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Then I can’t help you… just like I could not help Monica,” she rasped and looked away, batting away tears. “I spent two weeks with her, and two minutes after she meets you, she is pouring her heart out to you.”
“Naina, it’s important for me to feel comfortable talking about everything. I don’t know what got Monica to feel so emotional, but…”
“What more can I do?” She sounded angry.
“Naina, be my friend. I didn’t have any friends growing up and never got a chance to share any of my successes or hardships with anyone.”
