When Kamala arrived home, she collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. Talking about the costume with Bruno while biking had drained her. After all, she was seeing the suit for the first time in this reality; it looked far too professional to be the work of mere high schoolers.
She flipped on the TV just as her mother walked across the screen, carrying a box.
"Hello, Beta. How was school?"
"It was fine, Ammi." Kamala didn't want to mention the talk with Mr. Wilson. With Aamir's wedding coming up, her mother didn't need more stress.
As a movie on TV showed a couple kissing, Kamala quickly turned it off.
"Good you turned it off, Beta. Don't watch movies with such things in them."
Don't worry, Ammi, Kamala thought bitterly. At this rate, I'm going to die alone. Even in a zombie apocalypse, she had kept losing everything. The protagonists were supposed to win, right? Then she definitely wasn't one of them.
Suddenly, Knull spoke for the first time in hours: "Look inside that box."
"Why?" she whispered aloud. Still, she sat up and opened the box on the table. The shipping label said it was from Pakistan.
"Did Nani send this?"
"Probably for the 'Baat Paaki'," her mother replied while calling for Aamir to come down and help. Kamala rifled through the package, finding a collection of jewelry. "They're beautiful..." she murmured. Ever since the topic of the bangle came up, she had wished for more mementos of her family. All she had was an old photo and that one bangle.
"Why did she send these now?"
"I'd love to say she sent them because she's getting old, but she's always been like this," Muneeba sighed. "She doesn't want to die without giving away all her 'junk'."
Kamala's eyes scanned the box until she found what she was looking for: The bangle, wrapped in red cloth. Unsure how her mother would react, she quickly tucked it into her pocket and closed the box.
"Aamir! Have you gone deaf, my son?" her mother yelled before turning to Kamala. "Kamala, leave those trinkets alone."
Aamir finally came down, and their mother shoved the box into his arms. "Take this to the attic, then go empty the grocery bags."
"Why doesn't Kamala do it?"
"Because she's helping me with the wedding prep."
"Me?" Kamala asked, nervously fingering the bangle hidden in her purple jacket.
"Yes. Chalo. Let's go."
●
Later, at Saeed Fashions, Kamala was being pinned into a red dress.
"It's too short," Shakat, the tailor, interjected. Kamala looked at him in disbelief. Am I not the customer here? "My daughter isn't short. The dress is too long," Muneeba corrected him.
"Salams! Muneebaji!"
One of her mother's friends, Auntie Ruby, walked in. "Shopping for the wedding? Did you hear? Fatima, who just got engaged... she broke it off."
Muneeba gasped. "But why?"
"She says she's not ready to settle down. She wants to 'find herself' in Europe. What is there to find, I ask you?"
"Good for her," Kamala blurted out. "At least she's trying to make a choice for herself. She's following her dreams; even if it's a mistake, she can face it on her own."
She smiled at a shocked Auntie Ruby and her furious mother. I'm dead, she thought.
The tailor, Shakat, started laughing. "This girl is a real troublemaker."
If you were a zombie right now, I wouldn't hesitate for a second before blowing your head off, Kamala thought, maintaining her fake smile. "I'm sorry, clearly Fatima made a mistake. I just hope she learns from it."
Auntie Ruby shook her head. "Exactly. The only thing she'll find is that there's no ring on her finger. And then I heard she's getting quite close to a 'gora' named Rob in Belgium." She eyed Kamala critically. "Jaanu, you are too short for that dress."
"Yes," her mother agreed. "Quite short indeed."
Kamala looked at her reflection, wishing she could just disappear.
●
When they arrived home that evening, Kamala found Bruno in the living room. He was with her father, testing out the new home assistant system called Zuzu. As she put the shopping bags away, her mother beat her to it and went straight to Bruno.
"Hello, Bruno beta."
Bruno walked toward them, returning the greeting with a polite smile. Muneeba immediately asked if he would stay for dinner.
Bruno shook his head. "No, I have some things to take care of at the store."
"Nonsense, I'll pack a bag for you then."
"No, no, that's really not necessary!" Bruno called out after her, but Muneeba had already vanished into the kitchen.
Kamala finally finished putting away the groceries and approached Bruno.
"Hey."
"How did it go?" Bruno asked instantly.
"Easy there, champion... Uhm, neither good nor bad. I couldn't ask her," Kamala admitted, looking away with a hint of disappointment.
"All you have to do is ask, Kamala."
"I know. And... I will. I'll ask them."
"Bruno, there's a spicy one at the bottom for Nonna!" Muneeba called out as she returned.
Bruno looked at Muneeba, shocked that she had prepared it in mere seconds. "How did you make this so fast?"
Her mother smiled and patted his cheek. "Technology is your business, beta. This is my secret."
Looking at the two of them, Kamala realized once again how much she had missed this. This was Bruno's family too. She hadn't realized it back then. But on that day—the day his own grandmother got infected—his first instinct had been to come to them. They had hoped the heroes would do something. Kamala should have done something. But she wasn't there.
"Alright then, see you later." Bruno smiled at Muneeba and headed for the door. Before leaving, he turned to Kamala and whispered one last time: "Ask them."
Later, Kamala went to the living room. Her father had asked Zuzu to turn on the sports channel. Deciding to wait until tomorrow when their energy was higher to ask for permission, she started scrolling through her phone.
While flicking through Instagram Reels, she suddenly stumbled upon a video. It was shot from a shaky, low-quality angle from the back of a crowd. Large captions across the screen read: "TONY STARK SILENT: MOTHER OF LAGOS VICTIM CONFRONTS IRON MAN AT MIT."
The footage was grainy, but the pain it captured was crystal clear. A woman stood in the aisle, her voice trembling with grief and rage, while on stage stood a Tony Stark who looked smaller and more vulnerable than ever. The man who always had an answer for everything was taking her words like bullets to the chest.
"I am sorry for your loss, ma'am," Stark was saying. His voice sounded like a hollow echo through the phone's speakers. "What happened in Lagos... it was a tragic misfortune. I know saying this doesn't compensate for anything. I just want to say... I'm sorry."
He didn't offer a defense, nor did he try to justify the Avengers. He just stood there and let the weight of the woman's grief crush him.
Kamala glanced at the comments. It was a war zone:
@AvciGozu: "Finally, someone held him accountable!"
@StarkFan4Ev: "It wasn't his fault! It was that girl with the red mist!"
@JusticeForLagos: "They are all dangerous. All of them must be stopped."
"What is going on?" Kamala whispered in shock, sitting upright. Were these events just happening now? Her parents didn't notice her reaction. Seeing a notification from Bruno, she snapped out of it and checked her messages. He was asking about her shift and if she had asked her parents yet.
"Send a photo of the costume, pls" she asked.
"Fine." He wrote.
To make the Captain America costume look more "modest" and effective, Kamala had added a navy blue cape. This was her secret weapon to convince her parents; the cape covered most of the form-fitting suit. Bruno had taken photos showing the white star on the back of the cape and the deep navy stripes.
"Ammi, Abbu, can I have a minute?" Kamala stepped between them, showing the photos on her phone.
"This is my surprise. Bruno and I made it. I did the stitching, and he handled the coloring. What do you think?"
Abbu looked confused but admitted it looked very nice. Ammi, however, looked suspicious. "And what is this for?"
Kamala smiled at her mother. "Bruno and I wanted to go to an Avengers convention. It's not official, but they have amazing science exhibits by Dr. Banner. They've also made huge replicas of the heroes. I want to go and walk around in this big Captain America cape." She spoke so fast she ran out of breath, looking at them expectantly.
Muneeba took the phone and inspected the cape. "It's hard to believe you made this yourselves... Wait, you learned how to sew?"
"You already knew that, Ammi. Let's just say I improved."
"Is this some kind of party?"
"Ammi, Bruno is going there for the free books featuring Bruce Banner, and I'm going for the tour. Besides, most of the people there will probably be 7-year-olds. Please." She gave her mother her best pleading look.
"If it's not expensive and Bruno is with you, I suppose you can go," Muneeba said.
"REALLY!?" Kamala shouted, hugging her father tightly before her mother spoke again.
"But you must take the bus, and you cannot wear that costume without the cape. It looks quite tight, beta."
Kamala answered instantly. "I can't take it off anyway; the costume and the cape are attached to each other."
Her mother raised an eyebrow, a look of relief washing over her face. "And when is this, beta?"
"Tomorrow, Ammi."
"And you're telling me this just now? Ah, Kamala beta, do you not trust us at all?"
Kamala shook her head quickly. "No, Mom, we weren't even sure if we could go. Finishing the costume on time was pure luck. We thought we'd have to wait for next year."
"So it was a last-minute development. Fine, you can go."
Kamala hugged her mother again and thanked her. Since she had school the next day, she headed upstairs to her room.
A grimace crossed her face as the lies she had told began to weigh on her. In truth, the cape wasn't attached at all, and they definitely hadn't planned this for next year. Exhausted and unable to think anymore, she crawled into bed.