Work ended at 6:30 p.m.

  I shut down the PC with the finality of a man finishing a battle.Leaned back, stretched, and groaned like an old chair.

  Eira, who had been watching from her spot by the window, stood up immediately.

  "You are finished?" she asked.

  "Yeah," I said, rubbing my eyes. "Finally."

  "You must replenish," she said solemnly. "You have not consumed sufficient sustenance."

  I ughed weakly. "Big words, soldier. But yeah, food would be good."

  She straightened like a soldier reporting for duty."I will prepare."

  I froze.

  Arm bells started going off in my brain.

  "You... you’ll prepare?"

  "Yes," she said proudly. "I have observed your methods."

  I stared at her, imagining the chaos to come.

  On one hand: help was sweet.On the other: st time she made tea, she almost set the microwave on fire.

  But her silver eyes were bright, hopeful, determined.

  I sighed."Alright. But I’m supervising."

  Ten minutes ter, we were in the kitchen.

  I sat on a stool, arms crossed, giving instructions like a bomb squad commander.

  "Okay," I said, "Maggi’s easy. Two cups water. Add noodles. Stir. Then masa. No explosions."

  Eira nodded seriously.

  She filled a pan with water, turned on the gas, and poked the fme like it might bite her.

  Somehow, against all odds, she didn’t cause a gas leak.

  She added the noodles.

  She even managed the masa without sneezing it all over the counter.

  I was ready to decre victory when she picked up a giant spoon and started stirring like she was fighting the noodles to death.

  "Easy!" I yelped. "They're food, not enemies!"

  She rexed her grip slightly, cheeks pink.

  The kitchen smelled like survival and victory.

  I smiled.

  Maybe, just maybe, we were getting the hang of this weird life.

  Then — the doorbell rang.

  And my soul died instantly.

  I stiffened.Eira looked up, alert.

  I peered through the peephole.

  And there she was.

  Didi.

  Grinning devilishly.

  And next to her — Mini, her 4-year-old daughter, bouncing excitedly, holding a teddy bear bigger than her head.

  I panicked.

  "I’m not home," I hissed at Eira.

  She blinked. "You are standing here."

  "Shh! Hide! Don’t move! Py dead!"

  She frowned, confused.

  The bell rang again.And again.Followed by knocking.

  "Karan!" Didi’s voice floated through the door. "I KNOW YOU’RE INSIDE!"

  Mini added, "Mamu! Ice cream!"

  I considered jumping out the window.

  Instead, I whispered frantically, "We have to pretend we're not home!"

  Eira, serious as ever, nodded. "Understood."

  We tiptoed backward like cartoon criminals.

  Then — disaster.

  Eira tilted her head."Why are you afraid? We have not engaged in inappropriate conduct."

  Her voice was calm, but my brain broke instantly.

  Inappropriate conduct.

  My brain, traitor that it was, instantly fshed back to the bathroom —— water cascading down her pale skin —— the soft curve of her waist —— her breasts, her nipples, her—

  I bcked out for a solid two seconds.

  When I blinked back into reality, Eira was walking toward the door.

  "WAIT!" I yelped, lunging.

  But she had already opened it.

  Standing outside:

  Didi, arms crossed, wearing her patented "I'm About To Wreck You" smile.

  Mini, bouncing excitedly, yelling, "Mamuuuuu!"

  And Eira.

  Standing there.

  Smiling awkwardly.

  And speaking broken Hindi.

  "Namaste," she said stiffly. "I Karan's... house person."

  Dead silence.

  Didi’s eyes gleamed with evil.

  House person.

  HOUSE PERSON.

  I'm dead.

  Before I could even formute a lie, Didi and Mini stormed into the apartment.

  Mini immediately tched onto my leg, squealing, "Mamu! Mamu! I miss you!"

  I scooped her up, heart melting despite the terror.

  Didi surveyed the pce like a general entering enemy territory.

  She locked eyes with Eira.

  And smiled wider.

  "So," she said sweetly, "house person?"

  I coughed violently."Friend! She’s a friend! New to town! Helping! I’m helping! Charity! Humanity!"

  Didi raised an eyebrow.Eira smiled proudly.

  "I learn," she said. "From Karan."

  Didi made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

  Meanwhile, Mini poked Eira’s leg.

  "Who you?" she demanded.

  Eira knelt gracefully, getting eye-level with Mini.

  "I am Eira," she said softly.

  Mini’s eyes widened. "Like Elsa!"

  Eira tilted her head. "Who is Elsa?"

  Mini gasped like it was the gravest offense in the world.

  "You not know Elsa?!"And then, without warning, Mini unched into a full song performance of Let It Go.

  In the middle of my tiny, noodle-smelling living room.

  Eira listened seriously, nodding along like Mini was delivering an important war speech.

  I sat there, numb, watching my life unravel.

  Didi grinned, plopped onto the couch, and pulled out her phone.

  "You’re dead," she mouthed.

  I sank lower into the floor.

  Dinner became inevitable.

  The Maggi was slightly overcooked but edible.

  We sat around the tiny dining table:

  Me, sweating buckets.

  Didi, smirking like a cat.

  Mini, eating Maggi with both hands.

  Eira, dignified and graceful, holding the fork wrong but pretending it was fine.

  "So," Didi said casually, "where you two meet?"

  I choked on a noodle.

  Eira, bless her soul, answered calmly, "He summoned me."

  Didi ughed so hard she almost fell off her chair.

  Mini cpped. "Magic mamu!"

  I buried my face in my hands.

  After dinner, Didi finally decided to leave — after swearing she would tell Mom and Dad EVERYTHING.

  Mini hugged me and Eira both, yelling, "Bye Elsa!"

  And then, like a tornado, they were gone.

  I colpsed on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

  Dead inside.

  Emotionally hollowed out.

  Eira sat beside me, sipping water, calm as ever.

  "You handled that poorly," she observed.

  "I wanna die," I muttered.

  "You will survive," she said, patting my head awkwardly.

  I sighed.

  Maybe.

  But next time?

  I was definitely changing the locks.