Read Trail of Broken Wings for Free Online Page B

better hidden in darkness. Judgments fall to the wayside when there is no light to shine upon them.
    The crystal clock on the mantel shows it is past midnight. A new day, but it will be similar to other days in the way that only routine can create. Everyone awake and ready on time. Cooked breakfast grabbed on the way out. Schedules intermingled as everyone heads their own way. It was never how she imagined her life would be. But then, she never imagined anything at all. Her father made all the decisions and she assumed he would determine the pattern of her daily life also.
    She was thirteen when he decided her college major. He had researched the various careers and determined that finance would givethe best return on his investment. It was irrelevant whether it fit Marin’s interests. That it did was lucky, though Marin would never have dared to complain. Any protests would have yielded no sympathy and, worse, might have fueled his anger. It wasn’t worth taking the chance. She took her college courses and became an expert in her field. After graduating in two and a half years, she followed up with an MBA. A guarantee for an easy ascension in her career, a career that means everything to her. A livelihood for which she has only her father to thank.
    Still not ready for bed, she takes a seat on the sofa. As she curls her legs beneath her, memories from the night before her marriage begin to torment her.

    As Marin watches from the hallway in front of the bathroom, Ranee places an invitation to Marin’s wedding in front of a shrine made from pictures of relatives who’ve died. She turns on all the lights in the house and plays a tape of traditional Indian music.
    In the bathroom, Sonya nudges Trisha away from the sink. “This is spooky.” She spits out her toothpaste and gargles with the mouthwash. “Are we going to see dead people?”
    “Yes. A bunch of dead people are going to come and dance around you. They’re going to get closer until they grab you and you’re gone. Poof,” Trisha teases.
    “We’re not going to see dead people.” Marin buttons her pajamas as she enters the bathroom. “It’s tradition. Mummy’s family did it when she got married and now we do it.”
    “But why?” Her fear obvious, Sonya inches closer to Marin.
    “It’s honoring them. Saying we wish they were here.” Marin turns to Trisha. “You need to be nicer to her.”
    “She’s a baby.”
    “Yeah, our baby sister. You have to take care of her after I’m gone, OK?” A desperate plea for even an insincere acquiescence. Whenever Sonya was ill, Marin had been pulled from her junior-high classes. The nursery school would call to say Sonya had vomited again. Marin would wait in the principal’s office, her arms resting on a stack of her assignments for the rest of the day. Her father would summon her with a honk from the parking lot, the used, pea-green station wagon coughing as it waited. The office secretary offered a small wave each time, a smile to conceal her sympathy.
    “Whatever. Anyway, you’re coming back all the time. Right?” The first vulnerability Trisha has shown, Marin thinks. “Things won’t change?”
    “It’s a little far for that. It’ll be hard to come all the time.”
    “Why do you have to go live with him? Why can’t he live here?” Sonya demands. Their bravado gone, they stare at Marin.
    “Those are the rules.”
    “Whose rules?”
    “I don’t know,” Marin snaps. “Daddy found someone for me to marry, and I’m marrying him.”
    “You don’t even know him,” Trisha reminds her.
    “I met him when we got engaged.”
    “He could have the cooties,” Sonya interjects.
    “Sonya, you’re too old to think cooties are real.”
    “He could have AIDS.” Trisha starts to brush out her hair. “In science, we just learned that India has the fastest-spreading rate of it. He’s from there. He could have it.”
    “Trisha, we’re from there too. And we don’t have it, do we?”
    “I’m just