I could tell it threw my mother. “That’s good, dear.”“What do you want, Mum?” I knew I sounded impatient and petulant, which was also out of...character, but I couldn’t help it. Mrs Cathcart had appeared from the kitchen, carrying an empty beer bottle.“I just wanted to know what time you’ll be home,” my mother said. “I wouldn’t want you to miss your supper.”Was it that late? Not that I cared about that, or about supper. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not now that Mrs Cathcart had sat down on the sofa,. He had never felt more uselessly overprivileged.“There were hardly any doctors at that hospital. There had not been many in the first place, and most had fled. The Government ordered the Red Cross to leave, they accused them of aiding and abetting terrorists. Appa just stayed there, I don’t know if anyone treated him. All I know for sure is that Amma did make it there.”“What happened to your father and mother?”“At least they were together. They… they…”Manjula was not crying; she was. She opened her trunk and pulled out the expected attire, a pair of blue and pink striped stockings, a dark green short skirt, a size small bra, and a white blouse. She quickly dressed to save time, pulling on her knee high stockings, stepping into her skirt, squeezing into her bra, and buttoning her blouse, she turned to look in her mirror. She was 5'4" and had hazel hair that contrast to her green eyes. Her blouse was buttoned to a point where you could see a good deal of cleavage, but. And so he was just working on the second of the new pics he’d downloaded when he heard his mother come out of her room. He didn’t think much of it at first but then her footsteps seemed to be hurrying down the stairs, which he thought was strange. He checked the time: 10:47. When he’d first heard his mother come out of her room, he figured she might be heading downstairs to get something to eat. But then she’d gone down the stairs in a rush, which was very strange indeed.With his curiosity now.