Ajay and Lalita (for Novella)

I was only six the day Ajay came to live with us. His parents were killed during a missile attack on his village and my father had been named his guardian. Ajay was ten at the time and very quiet. His eyes, a surprising hazel, were filled with the pain and horror of recent events but when my father introduced us he let me hold his hand in comfort and I knew, even then, that he needed me as much as I needed him. My mother’s body was weak and my birth had damaged her beyond repair. Where most families had three or more children my family only had me and my life so far had been a lonely one. Ajay with his solemn presence filled a hole in our family and we quickly welcomed him into our home almost forgetting that we had had a life before him and forgetting the past that, unknown to us, continued to be his present.