The antique furniture was bolted to the hardwood floor through the padding, the sheets replaced by fine blankets that couldn’t be torn up and turned into a noose, the fresh flowers displayed in plastic vases that couldn’t be shattered and used to slit the wrists. However, when Carl opened the door after his polite knock received a “Come in,” from the other side, the modifications weren’t immediately apparent.
One of the myriad reasons why Banli House was so expensive.
“Your boots,” Carl reminded her.
She turned to Janvier, having forgotten the routine act in the wake of the sense of loss that so often overcame her here. “You have to take them off.” A heavy tread could damage the padding.
Janvier ran his hand over her hair, in the oddly tender way that tugged at her heart, before bending to unlace his boots as she unzipped her heeled ones. They placed them to the right of the door.
Then Ashwini looked into the bayou green of his eyes one last time, drinking in the way he felt about her at this instant before everything changed . . . and led him inside.
Carl didn’t come with them, but she knew he’d remain nearby in case he was needed to administer a sedative. Ashwini could tell no sedative would be needed tonight at first sight of the woman who sat by the windows, a serene smile on her face.
Seeing Ashwini, she turned and held out her hand, her features a feminine version of Arvi’s, the brown-black of her hair thick and gleaming, with only a rare few strands of silver. “Ashi,” she said, using the childhood nickname Ashwini heard from no one else now.
“Hello, Tanu.” Ashwini settled into the chair opposite her elder sister.
Tanu’s dark eyes flicked up to behind her. “Who’s this?”
“Janvier.” She glanced back and up at him before returning her gaze to the sister who’d been wrenched out of her life when Ashwini was barely nine. “He’s mine.”
“Well,” Tanu said to Janvier with the acerbic politeness that had so often put men back on their heels before they fell hard for her, “you look well nourished, so I assume you have a job?”
“It even pays in more than whiskey.”
Janvier’s drawling answer had Tanu’s lips tugging up at the corners. “I’d watch out for this one, little sister.” The last two words were in the language they’d grown up speaking with their grandparents. “He’s apt to steal your virtue and slip out a window come dawn.”
Ashwini found herself surprised into laughter. “Maybe I’m the one who’ll steal his virtue.”
“I’m not sure your Janvier has any left.” Tanu’s eyes danced and at that instant she was the effervescent beauty who’d once drawn three marriage proposals from total strangers during the course of a single family wedding.
Janvier tugged on Ashwini’s braid. “You did not warn me I would be facing such stern scrutiny, cher.”
Tanu didn’t laugh, deep vertical lines forming between her eyebrows instead. “Where’s Arvi? I tell him not to work so late, but does that dratted twin of mine ever listen?”
Ashwini sensed Janvier start behind her as he understood the true scale of the tragedy. “You know Arvi,” she said. “I bet you he took ‘just a glance’ at a pending operation as he was about to leave, and ended up spending hours mapping it out. He’s probably on his way here now.” A guess that had a good chance of being true . . . because her big brother spent more time in Banli House than in his own. Arvi had lost half of himself when he’d lost Tanu, would bleed from the wound till the day he died.
“That’s Arvi for you.” Sighing, her sister rubbed at her temple. “God, this headache.”