At five past five, in the wee hours of the dawn, the bus came to a halt before a big gate. I looked at my fifteen-year-old. Her chubby face, when she was a child, flashed my mind. It was the same blank grumpy look in her eyes this morning too. My heart squeezed as I dropped her to her hostel, leaving her to be all by herself.
Before the sinking feeling overpowered me, I had to find my way out.
Hours later, as I said, “Veg Margherita, extra-cheese,” I looked around proudly. That was my first ever visit to Dominos.