Papa looked at the glowing screen, then at Vivaan’s small, waiting face. He darkened the phone and slipped it into his pocket. “We do it now,” he said.

Vivaan blinked hard. “Really now?”

“Now-now,” Papa answered, already crossing the rooftop. Together they tugged old sheets over cracked pots and tucked the corners tight. The first fat drops went plop, plop, plop, and Vivaan gave one quick, surprised smile.