Alankrita sat near the centre of the table.
She wore a beautiful soft cotton gown.
Simple.
Comfortable.
Light blue.
The kind of clothing chosen for comfort rather than appearance.
Yet somehow she looked happier than anyone had ever seen her.
Her six-month pregnancy was visible now.
There was no hiding it anymore.
No reason to hide it anymore.
The room buzzed with conversation.
Oliver and Sam argued about whether Baby Pumpkin would become a journalist or philosopher.
Mei Lin argued for scientist.
Porter suggested football player.
Elara suggested lawyer.
Chloe suggested journalist because apparently the child had already survived journalism examinations.
Sara listened quietly while knitting another tiny sweater.
Alankrita watched them all.
Her heart felt painfully full.
Months earlier she had crossed continents completely alone.
Tonight she sat surrounded by family.
Not the family she had been born into.
The family she had found.