Just then, I received this email from email@example.com:
‘I am having a get together next saturday the 10th of March. I have invited some friends and I am told that you are acquainted with most of them. Would be lovely if you would come. My father will be there.’
The location was the ITC Hotel near the International Airport in Mumbai. Peshawar, which I knew to be an expensive kebab place. I thought, ‘Great, an opportunity to sit and resolve any differences between me and the family once and for all’—unless they shot me or beat me up, which, for a little book no one had read, didn’t seem worth the effort for these famous people.
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