Chapter 8: The Last Goodbye
That night, I waited a long time, but Amma never opened the door. I sat on the steps, listening to the clatter of plates, Amma’s lullaby, the distant murmur of the TV. The world inside felt so far away, and I wondered if maybe it was time to let go.
The verandah tiles were cool beneath me, the night air heavy with jasmine and distant drumbeats from the nearby temple. I looked at the light behind the door, quietly pressing my palms together, whispering a silent prayer. I hoped Amma would find peace, even if I could not.
The lamp flickered on the other side of the door, casting shadows that danced like memories. And in that moment, I realised—sometimes, even the ones who love you the most must let you go.