Folder full, nothing fills it

Ten people. A retirement hall that smelled like floor cleaner and old cushions and I made it feel like something. I know I did. The mic cut twice and the uncle's daughter said Priya's name loud enough for the thali to go quiet and I handed her the mic and said she should sing better for her auntie and my hands shook only once.

Trupti texted tussi great ho didi with a laughing emoji. I stared at that laughing emoji for a full minute. Was she laughing with me or at me or just at the situation like it was funny content? I blocked her. I screenshot the mic-cut moment and her text and added both to the folder under 6 Oct, Andheri, smaller. The folder is getting thick. I don't know what I'm building yet. Evidence for what? A case that Heena is drafting into actual legal words because I said yes to everything she suggested.

I cooked dal and rice tonight with the window open and ate at the kitchen table and it was the first thing that felt like mine all day. The legal notice. The breach-of-contract line. I keep reading the case-reference sentence. They took fifteen hundred less than my rate and now I'm spending more than that on a legal notice for a handshake and a WhatsApp voice note and I want them afraid. I want them to feel something the way I have been feeling something for months.

Gold kada cold against my wrist in bed. Phone at arm's reach. Folder still on the kitchen counter because I couldn't look at it again tonight.