The Deadly Conch by Mahtab Narsimhan Page B

shuddering or glancing away. This is a child, a mere child , Tara told herself over and over again. And you can beat her. Be strong.
    â€œYou snake,” hissed Parvati. “I brought you up like my own daughter instead of an orphan. And this is how you repay me?”
    â€œI have done nothing,” said Layla.
    Her parents looked at each other and then back at her.
    â€œYou can stand there and say that?” said Parvati in a choked voice. “You’re feeding the villagers lies about my Tara and turning them against her. She is your sister, after all. How can you do that to your own family?”
    â€œ Stepsister ,” said Layla. “You may have taken me into your house, Parvati , but you never took me into your heart. I don’t think I’ll call you Mother anymore.”
    Parvati gasped. “You ungrateful … lying … little —”
    â€œI think you better go, Parvati,” said Sumathy. “Harassing a child is the last thing I’d expect from you. Especially a child who has no parents to protect her.” She put an arm around Layla who moved closer, a terrified expression on her face.
    â€œWe are — were — her parents before she decided to start playing these games,” said Parvati. “Since Kali left, I have brought her up as one of my own. I have no idea why she is telling these lies all of a sudden.”
    â€œLet’s go,” said Shiv, his voice grim. “I think we’ve heard enough. Layla, we need to have a talk, all of us. Either you come with us now, or you never come back.”
    There was silence in the room. Tara realized that Raka and the rest of the Panchayat were suddenly standing beside them. Punditji had disappeared into his room.
    â€œAre you threatening a child?” asked Raka. “You, Shiv? Don’t you know better?”
    â€œRaka, this is not what it looks like,” said Shiv. “I want to get a few things straight, as a family, and up until this moment I thought Layla was part of it.”
    There was a huge sob. They all looked at Layla. “I don’t want to go with them,” she wailed in pitiful voice. Her tears came thick and fast. “They’ll punish me, for sure. Maybe even beat me up for saying bad things about their real daughter.”
    Tara felt increasingly numb. There was a part of her that was horrified and yet she couldn’t help marvel at the way Layla was manipulating the situation. Her stepsister had always been able to turn on the tears at will. Those tears had earned her many beatings from Kali.
    â€œDon’t be silly, Layla,” snapped Parvati. “We’ve never raised a hand to you. Ever!”
    Layla ignored her. She slipped her hand into Sumathy’s. “Please let me stay with you for a few days. I’m scared to go back with them.”
    Sumathy looked at Raka. He looked at Tara, then at the rest of her family. He wiped his face and nodded. “Only for a few days. Until … until we sort all this out. I can’t take every child into my house, but this is so unusual … all right.” He sighed deeply. “I still have to talk to the headman of Chandi Mandir about the well. We’ll all have to find another source of water.”
    The mention of water made Tara realize that she was parched and they could not draw water from their own well. They would now have to walk a few kilometres to the village of Pinjaur to get the water, and haul it back, pot by pot. It was going to be very hard and the villagers were going to hate her more than ever.

    â€œShiv, you have to knock some sense into Layla,” said Parvati. “This is going from bad to worse.” She took a sip of the hot ginger tea Tara had made for all of them.
    Tara slumped against the wall of their tiny kitchen. Night trickled in through the bars of the window set high up in the wall, adding to the gloom. She sipped her own tea, feeling a river of warmth slide