She was holding up a small, lopsided cake with a single candle. On the cake, written in wobbly pink icing, were the words: "Miss you, Chotu."
The message opened. It was from Meera. Sent just an hour ago.
Then, a miracle.
The spinning circle returned. The tea stall owner, Bhola, glanced over. "No signal, baba. The storm has killed the tower."