Rao told Prem as much, as he rested his head on Prem’s shawl-cloaked arm, feeling the rise and fall of Prem’s shoulder beneath him, moving in time with his breath. Prem hummed and laughed in all the right places, and Rao finally went quiet, closing his eyes. The room was still spinning. He was probably going to be sick later, he realized. He didn’t care. “How is he?” Lata’s voice. “Oh, fine, I suppose.” Prem’s voice was as light as ever. “He’ll be asleep soon.” Lata sat down—he heard the rustle of her clothes, the thump of her body—and she and Prem began to speak in low voices, as Rao drifted
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