Star Daughter(18)

“Well,” continued Dad, “I’m waiting. What did I say?”

Sheetal stared at the teacups, at the wisps of spiced steam dancing up from them. “You said no boys until I’m older.” Which was so unfair; when had she ever given Dad a reason to worry about her with Dev?

She glared at her phone. Though apparently he’d been right to worry about Dev.

The starsong, which had been chiming nonstop since the sun set, rang out fully, and Sheetal’s palms tingled with the force of it. She couldn’t sit still, her feet digging into the sofa cushion and her fingers tearing at the skin around her thumbnail. What good was being half star if she couldn’t burn the feelings out of her chest?

“Chhokri,” Dad said again, sipping his tea, “I’ve been lenient with you, and you went behind my back. What does that tell me? That I should start listening to your foi and keeping you home?”

“When we were children, we would never have dreamed of disobeying our parents,” Radhikafoi interjected. “Even today, if my mother came in and told me to sit down, I would sit down without thinking.”

“We’re not in India,” Sheetal said, knowing she was out of line and not caring. At least she didn’t add, Where Dad told me you two got in trouble all the time.

“Aray vaah! Listen to this girl, so much smarter and grown up than us,” her auntie mocked. “So in America, you talk back and misbehave?”

“Didi.” Dad raised his hand. “Let me handle it.”

“I’m only saying, Tashan’s mummy told me she is busy working through the PSAT practice test book while Sheetal wants to waste her summer running around with boys!”

You’re not my mom, Sheetal thought. It’s not your business what I do! Sweat dribbled down her back and pooled under her arms. Gods, she hated this stupid leather sofa and the way it clung to her skin. “Can we please turn on the AC? It’s burning up in here!”

Radhikafoi gave her an odd look. “It is on. Beti, you don’t look well. I’ll get you some water.” She scampered into the kitchen, then returned with a metal cup of cold water.

Sheetal gulped the water, enjoying the cup’s chill on her prickling palms, as Dad explained the need to be respectful and trust one’s parents. “We don’t say these things just to say them. My job is to keep you out of trouble.”

“Really, Dad?” she interrupted finally, unable to take it anymore. Her heart blistered with resentment. “We’re talking about trust? That’s funny.”

Dad exchanged a worried glance with Radhikafoi. “What do you mean?”

Once the words started to flow, Sheetal couldn’t hold them back. “Did you know? About stars inspiring humans? I mean, of course you knew. You were married to Mom.”

Dad’s shoulders drooped like she’d struck the wind out of him. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

Radhikafoi, of course, had no problem answering, but whatever she said blended into an insipid hum as Sheetal focused on Dad.

She hated seeing him so despondent, but she also hated that he’d thought it was okay to hide this from her. Enough with secrets. Keeping them hadn’t helped anybody. “I know stars are muses, Dad. I saw it.”

With a sigh, Dad moved to sit by her on the couch. “Tell me what happened. Did you inspire Dev?”

“So you did know.” It still felt like a blow to the stomach. She choked back the sudden rush of tears in her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dad patted her knee. “I wanted to protect you, dikri.”

“We both did,” added Radhikafoi. “For your own good.”

The humming worsened into a whine. Sheetal’s brain was vaporizing. Her core was liquefying. Radhikafoi, always interfering. Always presuming to know what was best for everyone else.

For a second, all Sheetal saw was silver.

“From what?” she demanded. “Didn’t Mom inspire you?”

Dad stilled. “Once. The Nobel Prize.”

When Sheetal was five, Dad and his team of researchers had won the prize for a theoretical discovery that addressed the problem of radiation exposure during space travel. The award was a sensational first milestone in what should have been a long and illustrious career.

But it hadn’t been. Making that discovery was the last time Dad had ever stood out, to the point that his colleagues called it a cosmic fluke.

How had Sheetal not known? How had she not realized?

Her phone dinged. Another message from Dev. I was going to tell you, I swear. Eventually.

“Does he know?” Dad asked urgently.

“That I inspired him? What I am? All of the above.” Sheetal left out the part about Dev’s ancestor attacking hers. Radhikafoi didn’t deserve the satisfaction. “You should have told me, Dad.”

Trying to ignore the sweat beading over her entire body, she leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. The whine in her head grew louder, one question repeating itself: Why would Dad have kept this from her?

Radhikafoi came over and felt Sheetal’s forehead. “You’re burning up!” To Dad, she said, “First her roots, now this. It’s happening.”

Sheetal jerked away. “It’s not a big deal. Honestly.”

Ding. I threw away the song. I’m sorry. Just talk to me?