Unknown 9 by Layton Green (each kindness read aloud txt) 📕

greet them. She had long, unbound silver hair, bangles up and down her forearms, leather thong sandals, a nose stud, and a sari that matched the color of her hair.

“Good morning,” she said, with a regal smile and an upper-crust British accent.

Andie returned the warm greeting, and introduced herself and Cal. “Is this Anandamitra Guesthouse?”

“It is indeed.”

“Do you have any vacancy?”

“At the moment, all three bungalows are available. They’re quite similar, and you may choose the one you want.”

Andie didn’t care what they cost, and she had the strange feeling the bungalows were almost always available. “Okay. We’ll take two for the night.”

“Lovely! Breakfast is included, but lunch and dinner are optional.”

“We’ll take the meals as well. Wait—do you accept credit cards?”

“All forms of payment are acceptable, but I’ve forgotten my manners. My name is Rajani. May I ask how you found us?”

Andie hesitated. “A friend sent us here.”

“I see,” she said calmly.

Cal was turning in a slow circle, taking it all in. “Are you with the Society?”

Rajani arched her eyebrows. “With whom, dear?”

“Come on now,” he said.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Andie shot him a warning glance. They were in the middle of nowhere and out of options. “It’s nothing,” she assured the woman.

Rajani glanced at their soiled clothes and then at the hatchback, whose engine was coughing like a lifelong smoker. “Will your driver be staying as well?”

“No.” Andie returned to the Maruti to pay the kid, and made him swear to give Mani his portion. As the hatchback sputtered out of sight, Rajani led Andie and Cal into the charming open-air pagoda. Hammocks and teak furniture filled the room, separated here and there by silk screens. Bees and butterflies flitted around flowering vines, which overflowed their pots and climbed into the support beams.

A younger woman in a blue sari brought out coffee and tea on a tray. The smell of the coffee made Andie swoon. She paid seventy-five dollars for the night for both rooms and the meals, another price that seemed absurdly low.

“There are no locks on the doors here,” Rajani said. “I wouldn’t wander into the jungle at night, but otherwise you’re free to roam the grounds as you please. Meals are taken in your room or on the patio of the pagoda. If you leave your laundry and linens outside your door, Prema will return them by the evening. We even have internet, no password required.”

Andie felt embarrassed talking to this friendly, sophisticated woman while smelling like a sewer. She only wanted to take a shower and collapse.

Cal took his coffee and went to choose a bungalow, but Andie had to ask another question. After noticing that one of Rajani’s bangles was an ouroboros with plumed dragons, Andie glanced at Cal’s back as he disappeared down the garden path. “The person who sent us here said you might be able to help my friend,” she said.

“Help him how, dear?”

How to say this? “We think he’s been . . . hypnotized . . . in some way.”

“Oh my.”

“The hypnotist might have planted certain triggers, I guess, in his mind, that caused him to act in a certain way. And might again in the future.”

Rajani nodded gravely. “That is certainly cause for concern.”

Andie was relieved she was taking her seriously. “Do you think you can do something about that?”

“I think it’s quite possible.”

Andie ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you. I don’t know how much it costs—

“Don’t trouble yourself about that. It is a service of the guesthouse I am happy to provide. I would, however, prefer to cleanse his mind right away. For obvious reasons.”

“Understood. I’ll let him know.”

Rajani raised her eyes again. “Though, dear—I do think you might have time for a shower.”

The surrounding foliage and clever design ensured the interior of each tree house felt secluded from the world outside, wrapped in the protective arms of the jungle. Mosquito nets protected the beds, ceiling fans circulated the air, and the cozy wood furniture was strewn with cushions. After the grueling ordeal of the last twenty-four hours, Andie thought she might have died and gone to heaven.

During her outdoor shower, which included a cotton loofah and handmade soap, one of the most exquisite bathing experiences of her life, a monkey landed on the wooden railing and peered at her before returning to the canopy. Andie let the steaming water relax her muscles and calm her mind, though she couldn’t escape a twinge of guilt at the comfort, knowing Mani was alone in his slum and her loved ones were in peril.

It was too hot for jeans. She put on a clean sari and a pair of sandals she found in a carved-wood armoire. Exhausted but feeling more herself again, she wandered over to the bottom of Cal’s bungalow and called up to him.

“She wants to do it now?” he said, climbing down in a pair of shorts and a purple Knight Riders T-shirt—the name of the Kolkata cricket team—he had picked up in the city. The name had made him happy.

They found Rajani stretched out on a divan in the pagoda, reading a book. “Are you ready?” she said.

“Should I come too?” Andie asked.

“It’s better if we’re alone. Distractions impede the process.”

Cal caught Andie’s worried look. “It’s fine,” he said, then turned to Rajani. “Will it hurt?”

“Not you.”

“What does that mean?”

The older woman flashed an enigmatic smile. As Andie watched her lead Cal into the jungle on a barely visible footpath, she felt a twinge of uncertainty.

Why did they go into the jungle? Why didn’t she and Cal ask more questions? What exactly was Rajani going to do?

To pass the time, Andie moved to the patio and ordered a coffee. As a breeze ruffled her hair, she tried to relax over a delicious pot of French press that Prema had brought out. From this side of the pagoda, she noticed a path leading to a koi pond and a wading pool at the edge of the tree line.

An hour later, when they still