madhavi

"Yes I --... I checked the vents. No. No, I..." The words trailed off and Madhavi stared helplessly at the ceiling, barefoot and standing in the middle of her newly acquired apartment. While the voice on the other side of the phone remained calm and to the point, her own was filled with soft worry and poorly masked anxiety. Apparently there was not much one could do about a faulty AC unit over the phone...which was almost surprising, considering she was firm in her belief that her Uncle could re-arrange the heavens should he really wish to. And at times it felt like he did.

Had.

Still was?

Still was.

But that was Uncle for you. Prepared, together, organized. The man lived and breathed being one step ahead of the world and when he wasn't? He found a way. How exactly she didn't know and never did she assume she might one day find out, though regardless of his gift of family-wonder, one thing would never change: Madhavi was grateful. Grateful that the head of their family kept them protected, grateful that what little family she had left was still alive, grateful that by some miracle [or just obsessive planning] he had enough reach and resources to keep them safe even if that meant keeping them separate. Even now she wasn't sure of his exact whereabouts and it was rare should it be otherwise. Still in the city? A thousand miles away? Maybe a million. Another continent, perhaps. All were possibilities and she knew better than to ask. You never asked Uncle.

Her teeth tugged at the sleeve of her sweatshirt in nervous habit as the conversation came to a lull. Madhavi knew part of him regretted letting her do this. This was, after all, not to standard. Moving to a new city should have been a well-oiled routine by now. A place of residence was acquired with as little of paperwork as possible, the premises cleared, the basic building blocks of furniture obtained, and by that time all she had to do was arrive with not but a hair out of place. But that all changed the day Madhavi had decided to pick a place for herself.

Highly irregular. Highly discouraged. Steadfastly declined. And yet...

Here she stood.

In this little industrial two-bedroom apartment in the depths of West Sacro, among the bottom-feeders and delinquents as her Uncle so fondly put it. Madhavi felt differently though perhaps that was simply due to her own sheltered naivety. Brick walls, exposed pipes, old-school windows. There wasn't much of a view but the lighting was good. The furniture that had been delivered a week ago was pristine and neat-looking, basic and simple enough that it could have been a display unit to be shown to other potential renters. Odd or not there wasn't a lick of personal touch to be found; no photos, no decorations, no plants, and nothing even remotely flashy save for a single fuzzy floor rug and a basket of plush-looking blankets by the sectional. She would have been happy with it, really! ... If it hadn't been so ungodly warm in here.

As far as he was concerned this could have all been avoided and his niece was on her own.

Her teeth bit into the fabric of her sleeve a little harder before removing it, an inaudible sigh falling from her lips in quiet defeat. "Okay. Will you send me the number?" And that was that. Soon after she received a text that was simple and to the point. No name, no message -- just the number she'd asked for and nothing more. The one she sent to her landlord was just as straightforward.

I'm the tenant in the upper unit and the AC isn't working. Can you call someone?

As in right now but... one glance out the window would tell her that evening was fast approaching and her request might be pushed to tomorrow.

...Godsforbid.