Page 110 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

“Thanks.”

“I think we might have to have one more thing,” Mariah said, pointing to a food stall with a line of customers. “Isn’t kulfi a thing here?”

Veronica laughed, clutching her belly. “I am so stuffed.”

“I agree with Mariah,” Henry said, taking photos of the stall. “How can we resist? We can just take a couple of bites.”

So they stood in line. It felt easy, an evening out on the beach, a place where people could come and let go of the day. Children ran around in circles, chasing each other while adults licked ice-cream cones and laughed at the stories they told. “I’m so glad I’m here right now,” she said.

“Me, too,” Mariah said, bumping her in a friendly way.

“Me, too,” Henry said, taking their photo.

They took their pastel-colored dish to a clear spot on the beach and sat down. The sun was just touching the horizon, and the sky around was softly gray, the edges of the beach picking up orange. Veronica sat between the other two.

“This reminds me of my childhood,” Henry said. “My grandparents had a shack in a little Jersey Shore town, and we’d spend as many weekends and summer days there as we could. Sunset was always the best.” He leaned into Veronica, touching arms.

She pressed back subtly. “Do they still have it?”

“Somebody does. I’m not sure who actually owns it, but the family shares it, and once a year, as many people as possible go, renting all theshacks along the shore—which are not really shacks anymore—and have a big end-of-summer blowout.”

“I would love to have that kind of family.” Veronica sighed. “Cousins and aunts and siblings and all of it.”

“Me, too,” Mariah said.

“It has its upsides,” he admitted.

“How long since you went?” Mariah asked. “God, I’m going to be sick from eating, but this is delicious.”

“Long time,” Henry said.

“You should go.”

He nodded, looking at the families around them, all watching the sun perform its nightly ritual. “I should.” He brushed his hands off. “I have a suggestion.”

“Okay.” Despite her protests, Mariah finished the dish for all of them.

“There’s nothing else in Mumbai, so maybe we should just grab a night train to Delhi, get there tomorrow.”

Veronica felt a quickening. “How long does it take?”

“I looked it up. About fifteen hours.”

“Can’t we just fly?”

“We could,” he said. “But when will we pass this way again?”

Veronica heard a song in her head, and deeply wanted the train.

Mariah eyed the sun, a tiny sliver that was then swallowed by the horizon. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Fifty

Mariah found the train station overwhelming, but Henry seemed to know his way around, and they were settled without much trouble. They had seats in an open compartment with little beds that pulled down for comfort, but they didn’t do it right away. A family sat down the next section up: two little kids excited by the adventure, a tired mom, a dad who pretended to read a newspaper and played a game of peekaboo with the baby.

Veronica was bent over her phone, typing vigorously to someone.

“It always seems like it’s bad news when you’re getting texts,” Mariah commented.