Dev would have been disappointed, but she knew in her heart he would have understood. Her parents were happy again, and that’s all that really mattered.

She chatted with the aunties who had come to help pack for the move. Pari Auntie was putting the finishing touches on a new apron for her mother while her kids played hide-and-seek under the chairs. Vij Uncle was asleep in the corner, his new glasses dangling from his fingers while his wife, Nira Auntie, smoothed out the garment bag she had brought this morning. Over in the bare space where the waterfall had been, Mehar Auntie was teaching Anika and Zaina the dance “Kajra Re” from Bunty Aur Babli and Salena Auntie and Taara Auntie were arguing about something in a plastic container.

Rhea, her sister-in-law, had taken time off to help, and was chatting with Charu Auntie and Deepa Auntie over by the bar where Hari Uncle was pouring himself yet another drink.

The air was still fragrant with spices and she followed the scent to the kitchen, where her father was pouring batter into a pan.

“Dad, what are you doing? The movers will be here any minute.”

“I promised Sam some masala dosas before he goes for his big interview. He needs a full stomach if he’s going to impress the Redwood Hospital residency board.”

“He’s applied other places . . .”

Her father frowned. “No. No other places. He needs to stay in the Bay Area. This is where the family is—his family, your family. This is where you are. You have your business to manage upstairs. There is no going away. We lost you once. We won’t lose you again.”

“You’ll never lose me, Dad.” She put her arms around him and gave him a hug. “Sam and I will be down in Sunnyvale so much, you’ll be sick of us.”

“Make sure he sees Lakshmi before he goes. She has lucky things for him to take to the interview.” He flipped the dosa so effortlessly, she made a mental note to work on her dosa-making skills. After reconciling with his parents, Sam had made up for years of denial by eating his way through The Spice Mill menu and then shamelessly visiting her relatives and asking to stay for dinner.

“Not more elephants. She’s given him so many elephant things he had to buy a special shelf to keep them all.” For the sake of propriety, they both had to keep their separate apartments until the wedding, although Layla secretly spent most of her nights at his place in the Mission.

“We can’t take any chances.” He flipped the cooked dosa onto a plate. “How can he plan a wedding if he is far away? No. I’ve decided. He will get the residency here, and we will have a big celebration party in the new restaurant.”

Layla kissed her father on the cheek. “I’ll let him know. He’s coming up to the office before he goes.”

Although Sam had technically won their game, he hadn’t accepted her father’s hasty addition of his name to the list. As a result, since she hadn’t chosen any of the original ten bachelors, he’d declared her the winner of the marriage game and somehow convinced Royce that the restructuring business could operate successfully from the building across the street.

Daisy was tidying up her desk when Layla walked into the office. Max was playing with a new squeaky toy in the corner, a present from his new best friend, Sam.

“I’ve typed out a handover note for your new receptionist. It’s got all the details she needs to run things almost as well as me, including the recipe for your mother’s chai.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Layla sat on the purple chaise—the first thing she’d brought back to the office after Royce had moved out.

“I want everything to go smoothly for you,” she said. “You’ll be busy with your two new hires. You need at least one person who knows what’s going on while I’m busy revolutionizing the world one line of code at a time.”

Daisy had decided to go back to work as a software engineer and had found an exciting opportunity with a new start-up. Although Max couldn’t go to work with her, he would be spending his days being pampered by elderly aunties and uncles, and his nights eating pakoras at home with her and her dad.

“Where’s your man?” Daisy asked.

“He was at the gym this morning. He finally beat his friend Evan in a fight and Evan is determined to even the score. After that, he had some termination meetings to get through—he’ll be working with Royce at their new office until his residency is sorted out. And when those are done, he’s coming here to help with the move and go over some final wedding plans.”

“So he’s a nice guy after all,” Daisy said dryly.

“He was always a nice guy; it just took me a while to see it.”

* * *

• • •

“MEGAN, we’ve called you here today because the hospital is going through a restructuring. I’m sorry to say that we have to let you go. Today will be your last day.”

Karen immediately launched into a speech about the necessity of downsizing to allow the hospital to stay operational. Sam waited patiently until she was done and gave Layla’s business card to Megan. He’d cleared the referral with the AH board, who were happy to give their ex-employees a little hope for the future.

“I miss the old speech,” Karen said after Megan left the room. “It was inspiring.”

“It wasn’t the right time for them to hear it. When people are in shock, they need time to process before they’re ready to move on.”

It had taken him years to work through his guilt after Nisha’s accident, but now that he had laid that burden to rest, he could help others work through their pain.

“You inspired me in another way.” Karen opened her laptop. “After I read the file of that surgeon who hurt your sister, I took matters into my own hands.”

“You talked to your manager?” He could only hope that Ranjeet would be flagged for redundancy. He’d handed over the St. Vincent’s terminations to Royce because of his conflict of interest, but with so many people being let go, it wasn’t unfathomable that Ranjeet might be named.

“No,” Karen said. “Paul, the head of HR at Alpha Health Care handed in his notice a few weeks ago, and I got the job. It meant I had access to the entire database. And guess what I found?”

* * *

• • •

“HAVE you seen Nisha?” Sam dodged two movers carrying a heavy table as he ran into the restaurant. He’d texted and called everyone who might know where Nisha was, but so far he’d come up blank. His residency interview was in two hours, but all he could think about were the minutes ticking by that Nisha didn’t finally know the truth.

“I haven’t seen her.” Arun lifted a giant potted palm. “Nasir is in the kitchen. Maybe you should ask him.”