Vikram stood in the small take a long, shuddering breath outside, a nervous rustle of clothes, and then the soft, terrifying 'click' of the doorknob. His heart, usually a steady drum of military discipline, hammered against his ribs like a desperate prisoner. This was pure, unadulterated chaos, a game of hide-and-seek. His eyes, usually sharp and analytical, were dancing with a wicked, triumphant ananya opened door.

The door swung open revealing surya. Ananya hair, which he knew had been a glorious mess just moments ago, was now smoothed back, her eyes wide and guileless. "Emaindhi Amma? Endhuku ala door koduthunnav poddhune?" she asked, her voice a little too sweet, a little too loud, projecting an air of drowsy annoyance that would fool anyone but a suspicious, eagle-eyed mother. (What happened, Mom? Why are you knocking on the door like that so early in the morning?)