I can see us now, on the day he was born. What bliss. Malli asleep on me. Vik, who was quickly bored by his brother, clambering precariously onto the handrail of my bed to look at a crane hoisting some steel rods outside the hospital. Steve too elated to worry the boy might fall. A Voltaren suppository nicely numbing the pain of my cut. I think of that day now, and I cannot reconcile it with the impossible horror of how they were severed from me in an instant.
