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A few mornings later, I called Rohan. “Can you meet me now?” I spoke fast, but stuttered. “I am sorry to bother you.” I couldn’t believe that inside of ten days of spending time with Rohan and getting to know him, I had started trusting him.
“You OK?” He sounded groggy.
I paced up and down my bedroom. My face was burning.
He yawned, “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll see you at the French coffee shop near Time Warner Center.”
I took a cab to the Time Warner Center. The sun was just about coming up. The air was cold and crisp, but the streets of New York were busy. There were runners out for their morning jog like the morning walk devotees in New Delhi. Unlike Delhi, there was no garbage littering the streets. There were no rich, drunk guys driving on the sidewalk and taunting tra
