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October 1995

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October 1995

Hallways flashed white all around Madhulika as she made her way to room 46. Her muddied black BATA shoes made streaks across the squeaky-clean floors as she walked, earning her a glare from the cleaner. She ignored him, like always. Her father had spent a lot of money here, surely the hospital could spare some extra phenyl. Either way, it wasn't her fault. She hadn't made it rain that afternoon.

Stopping before the guest lift, she tapped her foot furiously while waiting for it to reach the ground floor. The doors parted soon and a young woman, looking remarkably fresh-faced for a full-time nurse, stepped out, smiling mechanically.

"Hi, your Papa just left," she told Madhu, pressing the wait button to talk to her. "And your mother has been shifted to the second floor, room 20."

Glancing down to read her badge—Shanti—Madhu racked her brains to remember whether this was her mother's nurse or not, given that they changed quite frequently. "Is she awake?"

"No. She was a while ago, but now the meds have kicked in."

Madhu nodded, hiking her purple backpack up her left shoulder. "Right, thanks."

Shanti released the button, shutting the doors and leaving Madhu to stare at her own reflection on the large mirror inside the lift, which made her look taller than usual in her white school uniform. Some dried clay was still smudged on her right cheek and she hastily wiped it with the back of her tie.

Room number twenty was right in front of the elevator. Unfolding her socks from the ankles, she pulled them till they covered her mid-calves before adjusting her skirt to make the hemline reach her knees. Looking decent enough, she pushed the door open.

This room was bigger, brighter than the previous one. Large windows facing the bed would've allowed in plenty of sunlight had it not been raining outside. There was a whole couch right beneath said windows which looked far more comfortable than the stiff visitor's armchair she had to make do with in the previous room. All in all, these quarters were huge.

Madhu hated it.

Her eyes automatically fell on her mother when she shut the door behind her. Mahima Thakur had lost all the flesh she used to carry, not that there had been much to begin with. Her grey-tinged skin was hugging the bones of her face, chest rising and falling to shaky breaths as she struggled through her drug-infused sleep. Clearly, the IV stuck in her veiny hand wasn't doing its job.

Watching her made a lump expand in Madhu's chest. It was the kind of nervous feeling she felt whenever she was waiting for the results of a competition she knew she had bombed, only much, much worse. It was a battle between her ignorant heart, which was holding out a desperate hope for a miracle, and a trustworthy mind which was telling Madhu to mentally prepare herself, because there was no chance she'd win a race against nature. There was no chance her Ma would be able to win against nature.

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