Wild Wishes and Windswept Kisses
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Synopsis
After spending the last few months in India, Nidhi is coming back to Orcas Island, and she can't wait to see her sisters again! But thanks to a series of weather-induced travel delays, she finds herself struggling to make her way home—beside none other than her sort-of ex, Grayson. Will an old flame spark to life once again? Avani can't decide what she wants from her future. What college, what major, what career—it's all so stressful! The only thing she's sure about is Fernando, but lately, things between them have been anything but smooth. Will they manage to save their relationship? And how will she ever decide what to do with her life? Sirisha is trying to overcome her first heartbreak after her romance with Brie has fizzled out. But it's not easy—especially when your ex wants to be friends and everyone acts like they've got you all figured out. Sirisha's ready for a change. Will she be able to break out of her shell? Rani has the perfect relationship with her boyfriend, Raj. And she won't let anyone forget it! That's why her short film for the festival is all about their epic love story, one that transcends time and space. But when filmmaking stress reveals cracks beneath the surface, how will Rani respond? Relationships fall apart and come together. But through it all, there's one thing the Singhs can count on: Their family will always be there for one another. "The Singh sisters are our modern-day Little Women...an utterly charming series to curl up with over a long weekend." —Susan Azim Boyer, author of Jasmine Zumideh Needs a Win and The Search for Us "Heartfelt and charming! Prasad’s lyrical prose breathes life and joy into the stories of the Singh sisters as they fall in and out of love, while always staying true to themselves and each other. This swoony slice-of-life romance melted my heart." —Leslie Vedder, bestselling author of The Bone Spindle trilogy
Release date: October 17, 2023
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Print pages: 462
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Wild Wishes and Windswept Kisses
Maya Prasad
Prologue
The Songbird Inn loomed on the edge of a craggy cliff, mist rising over its decks, winds howling, the sea churning and thrashing below. A starless November sky engulfed the place into its shadowy folds. It had been a little over a year since a Douglas fir had fallen through the roof of the cozy little inn, tearing apart one attic bedroom and rattling one Singh sister in ways she never expected.
Now that fierce and searching wind had returned to shake up those Singh sisters once more. Because every once in a while, when the clouds are thickening and wishes are crowding you with what you think you need, you’ll forget what it’s like just to feel the spray of the sea on your face, to hear the rustle of pines, to inhale the scent of lavender from the nearby farm.
This was one of those moments for the Singh sisters. Three of them tossed and turned inside the restored inn, the windows rattling like old bones rising from a graveyard of unsaid things. Meanwhile, the eldest was slowly making her way back to the islands, over thousands of miles, even as circumstances sought to thwart her with each step.
Nidhi:
Yay! My flight to Paris finally arrived—after a six-hour delay. I can’t wait to see you all!
Dad:
Glad you’re on your way! Safe travels!
Amir:
Can’t wait to see you and hear all about your adventures in India!
Rani:
Ooh, let us know if you meet any cute Parisians at the airport. And if you do, be sure to document it thoroughly—it could be inspiration for my next short film after Remeet-Cute goes gangbusters! Kisses.
Avani:
omg, can you stop talking about your short film for just one second? Nidhi, we have A LOT to discuss. Srsly. Get home soon. Love you.
Sirisha:
Yeah, would love some tips from big sis about this murder-mystery party I have to go to. For one thing, how the heck does a murder-mystery party even work? Bethany did not provide any details. xo
Nidhi:
Haha, and I thought my little sisters didn’t need me anymore. Don’t worry, I’ll be there soooooon! xx
Chapter 1
When Nidhi’s international flight touched down on US soil at LAX, all the passengers clapped. She didn’t know why exactly, whether:
• it was the exuberance of touching down to any ground after a twelve-hour flight
• they were really patriotic
• or this was all for Nidhi—and the fact that she was no longer a virgin
She smiled to herself. It was her secret, something that she was perfectly fine not sharing with anyone. Not even her dear sisters.
It had happened a couple of months ago—but it certainly wasn’t the only thing that had changed her during her time in New Delhi. She lingered in the memories of the warm days spent with her cousins and aunt and uncle, her first trip to the motherland. The Diwali celebration. The book market that took over a street and was full of rare finds. The unapologetic coffee shop where intellectuals like Nehru had once hung out. The poet’s historic mansion. The gully rap scene. The art collective she was hoping to work with.
She loved seeing that other side of Delhi, the one that people in the US knew nothing about. Oh, she’d done some of the more obvious stuff, too. She couldn’t go to India and not see the white marble grandeur of the Taj Mahal. Riding a camel in the Thar Desert had been an admittedly touristy delight. And those palaces of old—in Jaisalmer, in Udaipur, in Jaipur—had been full of the kind of gorgeous and intricate architecture that was a photographer’s dream. But Nidhi wasn’t a photographer, and more than anything else, she’d loved some of the ideas circulating among people her age in New Delhi.
As the plane continued to glide along the runway, Nidhi smiled at the student newspaper in her lap. Suresh had mailed her the article he’d written about the night they’d danced to Deity and Hailstorm.
The headline: “Gully Rap Is Hitting Its Stride—But What Happens When Politicians Don’t Like the Lyrics?”
It was a great piece, really, and Nidhi was so impressed. At the same time, it was strange to think that right this very moment, Suresh could be getting engaged through the matchmaker his family had hired. Strange to think they’d probably never see each other again—though Nidhi was actually fine with that. His article showed he was well on his way to pursuing his dreams. Now she just had to figure out hers. Even planning next term seemed so hard. Her dreams always seemed to be shifting and changing, like puffy clouds across blue skies.
She was nervous about telling her sisters and the Dads that she didn’t want to come back to the US just yet. She knew they’d support her, of course, but this was already the longest she’d been away from them.
The plane’s captain interrupted her thoughts. “We have arrived at our destination,” he said warmly. “If you’re home, welcome back! Visitors, we hope you enjoy your stay! And if you’re just passing through, safe travels.”
Was she home?
What was home?
She knew it had once unquestionably been the Songbird Inn on Orcas Island, where she had grown up with her father and sisters. But now she wanted so much more, a yearning that felt like the pull of an ocean current. Only she wasn’t getting dragged under, she was sailing over. Or at least that was how she thought of it, and that flight—that movement itself—was maybe her home now.
Nidhi yawned, unbuckling her seat belt and stuffing the newspaper back in her bag. She’d been traveling a full twenty-eight hours straight. There had been delays upon delays in the world of commercial airlines, and she was still only in Los Angeles. Yet, adrenaline pulsed through her. It was currently 2:40 a.m. local time; in India, it would be Saturday afternoon.
Nidhi had always been a girl of two worlds, but now more than ever. Since she’d spent the last few months in India, she’d become much more fluent in Hindi, and felt at home in temperatures she’d never imagined when growing up in the Pacific Northwest. But for now, she was excited to see her sisters, Dad, and
Amir after so long, to huddle together in the dining room of the Songbird Inn, at the table by the bay window, stormy weather outside.
Passengers began filtering slowly off the plane, and the customs line was long and slow. Nidhi scrolled through photos from her trip as she waited. Snaps of her family and sites all over the city. Too many food pics, because Nidhi could never resist trying anything and everything. She’d gotten sick eating street food—her cousins had warned her about her “delicate American stomach”—but it had been worth it. Maybe if she stuck around in India long enough, she could toughen her gut bacteria up.
Eventually, she made it to the bored customs agent who was checking passports, found her baggage among all the others, and got in yet another line to have it scanned again.
Behind her, a cute guy fumbled with his phone. He was tall, Black, and square-jawed. He also wore a familiar down vest, the kind that was way too popular in the PNW. She wondered if he too was headed to Seattle.
“Crap. I’m not going to make it to my flight,” he muttered.
Nidhi glanced at the time. Oof! Maybe she wasn’t either.
Overall, customs had taken an hour and a half, and her next flight was leaving in twenty-five minutes—which sounded like plenty of time, but LAX was a maze and she needed to get out of the international terminal. She was huffing and puffing when she finally made it to the gate, right on the heels of the guy in the down vest.
The gate agent’s voice boomed on the speakers: “This is the final boarding call for Flight 766 to Seattle. Passengers, please make your way to the gate.”
“Nidhi!” someone said behind her, her name a low rumble.
It was a voice of moonlit adventures. Of smoke and dragons and night whispers. Of art and shadows and sailing across a fantastical, uncharted sea.
She turned. There he was. That sandy hair and those stormy-sea eyes and that handsome face that often flitted unexpectedly into her thoughts.
Grayson.
Chapter 2
Avani awoke that morning to her alarm buzzing on her phone and velvety dark November skies outside. The wind screeched, rain lashed against the windowpanes, the bones of the inn creaked and groaned. Normally, she would have been all for the atmosphere since it was perfect for scribbling in her journal. But even though she was snuggled up in her soft bed, her cozy gray comforter curled around her,
for some reason
she felt a little bit B.L.U.E.
everything was fine—
great, in fact!
and yet something ached inside her
and come to think of it
she missed her big sis
It was strange, since Nidhi had been so bossy and annoying when she still lived at the Songbird. Did Avani actually sort of miss the patented Concerned SisterTM look when she was late for breakfast duty in the restaurant? Did she miss a good scolding when she accidentally messed up an order or took too long delivering drinks because she was chatting away with the guests?
Nah, of course not. (It was called being friendly, Nidhi.)
Yet, she could use some advice. Relationship advice, specifically. (The kind that seemed to come best from a big sis.)
At least Avani didn’t have long to wait. Nidhi was due to return to the islands today—her first visit home since she’d gone to India. Unfortunately, she would arrive while Avani and Fernando were attending an all-day salsa workshop. Nidhi had originally been scheduled to return yesterday, but she’d had some delayed flights and missed connections. It was all so frustrating.
Sigh. Waiting. Avani could do that. And maybe there would be nothing to ask at all. Maybe the workshop with Fernando would fix everything broken between them. Maybe between a spin and a dip, he and Avani would click again in a way that they hadn’t for a while.
Wow, Avani hated admitting that. Even to herself.
Senior year had been busier than she’d expected. Avani was on a mission to decide her future—or at least what she wanted to major in next year. She’d signed up for debate and journalism and creative writing and horticulture club and even photography. But despite busting her butt all semester long, she was still desperately waiting for that epiphany that was supposed to come to her about what she should do for the rest of her life. All those coming-of-age movies promised it would happen, so Avani was certain that it would, given she tried enough things! Though singer-songwriter/radio host/professional beer pong player was still tempting.
As she doodled in her journal, an annoying click-clacking from a keyboard started up. Rani was up now too, humming a poppy Bollywood tune (with terrible pitch, as usual).
“How can you still be working on your script?” Avani moaned. “You’re filming today.”
“I know, I know.” Rani typed away, her fingers on a mission. “But I dreamed the perfect zinger for Layla when Nate comes into the café!”
Rani was entering a short film contest today, her script transparently based on her relationship with Raj. Avani was happy for them, of course. They’d even managed to overcome the whole long-distance thing. They were cute together—well, if she was being honest, they were a little too cute for her taste. But if Avani felt just a smidgen of jealousy that Raj and Rani seemed to embody Perfect Couple status, she certainly wasn’t planning to say anything about it.
Instead, she leaned over Rani’s shoulder and chuckled at her twin’s new script updates.
“Perfect,” she agreed.
“Thank you,” Rani said primly, and then set the file to print. “I wish you were filming with me today, though.”
Avani nudged her shoulder. “It would’ve been fun. But I really just wanted to spend some time with Fernando, you know? We’ve both been so busy lately. He’s taking that college prep class really seriously—he studies all the time!”
“Uh-huh.” Rani nudged her back. “What about the ten zillion clubs you joined
this year?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ve been busy, too.” She threw an arm around her twin. “What should I do?”
“About what?”
“About Fernando!”
“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out.” Rani set her laptop on her desk. “Go to this dance class with him. I’ll see you both at the One Day Shoot-Out award ceremony after. It’ll be great.”
“Yeah, the thing is—”
“This machine is so ancient. We really need to upgrade, don’t you think?” Rani glowered at the printer. Then, without waiting for an answer, she flounced into their shared bathroom.
Avani deflated. This was what all senior year had felt like so far: half-finished conversations, unsaid things hanging in the air with no time for them to actually get said. She wanted to tell her twin everything, but there never seemed to be a good time. It wasn’t easy to get the words out, to tell anyone about all those swirling feelings inside her.
She reached for the figurine of a goat that she kept on her nightstand. It was a gift from Fernando: a reminder of the baby goat that had brought them together. Usually, when she held it, her heart swelled with all those best moments they’d shared. Chicken raising. Dancing. Kissing in snowstorms in the winter and drizzle in the spring and in the long, lingering shadows of warm summer twilight.
But right now, echoes from their fight the weekend before battered her ears like the rain outside.
***
ONE WEEK EARLIER
Fernando’s parents had been away on an overnight trip to San Juan Island for some business. Perfect, since Fernando and Avani had been looking for some time alone. It was hard to come by when you both had family responsibilities and jobs and school and college applications.
The second they’d gotten to Fernando’s house after school, she’d grabbed him, kissed him hard. Late-afternoon light had streamed in through the windows. She loved his place: the cabin-style wood paneling; huge exposed log beams; and the eighteen-foot vaulted ceilings in the living room. Lots of windows. Very romantic.
She kissed him like their lives depended on it, like they hadn’t kissed in years, in ages. And he returned her intensity.
His lips swollen
and dark
full of yearning
full of want
The kind of kiss you didn’t have in front of friends and family. The kind of kiss that only happened on a stormy November night without anyone else around. All those senior-year worries melted away, and Avani sank into Fernando. Concentrating on the feel of his lips against hers. Fernando stopped to switch on the gas fireplace, which ignited with a purr.
She pulled him down to the couch. His hands gripped her hips, then swept in beneath her shirt.
His fingers were chilly
from outside
but she liked it
a tingle shot up her spine
electric and urgent
her chest heaved next to his
the fabric of their clothes
between them
too many clothes. . .
“Your turn!” Rani singsonged as she came out of the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a towel. “Better get a move on! Breakfast and then we have to catch that ferry. Fernando’s picking us up, right?”
Avani forced herself to get up and shuffle into the bathroom.
In the steam of the shower,
her fingers still tingled
at the memory
Fernando’s fingers on her back
his breath in her ear
his lips like petals
his moth brown eyes
the way he knew how to
touch her here
and there
and omg there
But that night hadn’t gone how she’d hoped, far from it. It was why she wanted to talk to Nidhi so desperately. What had gone wrong between her and Matt last year? And were Avani and Fernando doomed to make the same mistakes?
Through the door, she could hear Rani humming as she picked out her clothes—that infernal humming that was seriously getting on Avani’s nerves. That humming said: Oh, I’m just so happy with my life and my relationship. Everything is perfect.
Avani tried her best to mind meld with her twin: Well, I’m not happy. Senior year sucks! Just tell me what I’m doing wrong with Fernando already!
But Rani remained oblivious.
Avani tried to silently scream one more time: Help! My relationship is going up in smoke!
Rani didn’t get the SOS.
Chapter 3
As Rani hopped in the shower that morning, she closed her eyes. Let the steam wrap around her. She sometimes had her best ideas in the shower; it was how she’d come up with the premise for her short film, Remeet-Cute.
INT. CAFÉ - DAY
LAYLA
(reading a romance novel)
I’ll never meet a guy like this Highland warrior. He’s so brave and strong but also incredibly sensitive.
A bell dings. NATE enters the café. He immediately notices LAYLA but heads to the counter and chitchats with the barista. LAYLA hides behind her book. She notices him too but pretends not to. NATE finally brings his coffee over to her table.
NATE
Can I talk to you?
LAYLA
Do I know you?
NATE
Come on, don’t be like that. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch like I promised to.
LAYLA
You should be.
LAYLA turns back to her book, pointedly ignoring him.
Okay, so Remeet-Cute was not-so-secretly about Rani and her perfect boyfriend, Raj. They’d met two summers ago, but Raj hadn’t had the guts to make a move at the time. Afterward, they’d lost contact for almost an entire year—until he’d shown up at the Songbird Inn. At first, she hadn’t been too impressed since he hadn’t called or texted for so long. But when she’d taken the time to listen to him, all those old feelings had come tumbling back. Now they were together, they were the perfect couple, and their romance was completely and utterly epic.
(What? It was true!)
Naturally, it all made for the best rom-com. Raj had even tracked down the email address of Rani’s absolute favorite director’s assistant. Sadly, Olivia Lee’s team had yet to get back to her about making the “based on a true story” romantic comedy about Raj Mehta and Rani Singh. Rani was sure she’d hear from them very soon, but she was excited about making her own short film, too.
When she’d first spotted the flyer for the One Day Shoot-Out film contest on the bulletin board at school, she hadn’t thought much about it. Just walked on by.
But then she’d walked by it a second day.
And a third.
At the end of the week, she finally took a snapshot of it on her phone. That night, she started googling “how to make a short film.” She’d learned that people actually spent months just to make a five-minute movie. But. . .there was also someone on the internet who went around making short films in an hour. That didn’t count pre-production or post-production, but whatever. If someone could shoot one in an hour, then surely Rani and her team could make one in a whole day. Okay, so it was really only eight hours, but Rani thought that was plenty of time.
Today was the big event.
Rani had been prepping her crew as much as she could so they’d be as efficient as possible. They’d rehearsed, figured out the blocking, and planned out their shots. They had an arsenal of sound and music ready. Raj had volunteered to be her cameraman, and JJ Doherty was great at editing. They had everything planned out, though Rani was open to some improv, too.
She’d never thought of herself as an artist before, but in this last month, she’d embraced the role. After consuming so many romances in books, movies, and songs, she was finally creating her own. Telling the world all she knew about life and love. She never would have gone for it if not for Raj’s encouragement either. (See also: perfect boyfriend.)
Stepping out of the steamy shower, Rani wrapped a towel snugly around herself,
another one around her hair, and popped back into the bedroom only to find Avani staring at the ceiling.
“Your turn!” Rani singsonged cheerfully. “Better get a move on! Breakfast and then we have to catch that ferry. Fernando’s picking us up, right?”
She didn’t want to sound like a certain older sister who had always nagged them about being on time to things, but she also couldn’t afford to be late for the ferry. If they missed it, they’d have to wait a whole hour for the next one. They’d miss orientation—and obviously, time was of the essence.
As Rani rummaged through her closet for the perfect directorial outfit, Avani slunk into the bathroom. What was with that girl? Rani suspected that she and Fernando had gotten into some kind of tiff recently. She’d definitely noticed a bit of awkwardness between them at school this last week.
Normally, the Official Love Guru would demand every detail. Rani wanted to, she really did. But her focus had strictly been on pre-production with her team and perfecting that script. Avani kept telling her to stop tinkering, but Rani knew that dialogue was key. It was the difference between a great Olivia Lee film and the countless others that fell away to mediocrity.
Plus, it was so hard to fit everything she wanted to say about romance and love in a mere seven minutes, per contest rules! But she had to. She had to do it all: be funny and poignant and speak truths about humanity and love and teenagerdom.
Sigh. Now she knew why there were so few Nora Ephrons and Olivia Lees. Accomplishing all of that was hard, but those icons of film had managed to do it—not just once but several times. Rani thought back to her recent favorite Olivia Lee film, A Girl, a Boy, and a Dozen Puppies. It was about two teenagers who were complete opposites, but they shared the mutual goal of finding homes for a dozen abandoned puppies. The film had stolen Rani’s heart. (And made her wonder if she should add puppies to her story.)
But Raj—her wonderful, amazing, perfect boyfriend—said her script stood on its own. He’d even located some fancy camera equipment for her. Right now, he should already be driving to Anacortes. It was so sweet—he was waking up extra early to meet her in Friday Harbor. He lived on the mainland, but they’d somehow made this long-distance thing work. How did she get so lucky? The two of them were going to be such a powerhouse Hollywood couple someday.
She shot him a quick text:
So excited for today! Red carpet, here we come!
Rani and Raj were cuddled up at the cove on a warm evening under the stars, a moonlit picnic spread in front of them. Waves lapped gently against the sand, the sea breeze tickled, and peppermint hot cocoa steamed in their hands. Dad had made them a special dinner of finger foods to share: samosas and chutney, mushroom and spinach mini-quiche, and a few kebobs with grilled meat and veggies.
“Your dad is the best,” Raj said, inhaling his second samosa.
“I know,” Rani said, biting into an exquisitely grilled tomato on her kebob. The bell peppers were so good, too. Only Dad could char bell peppers just right.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Raj said.
“Thanks.” Rani was wearing a delicate pink and frilly shift-dress she’d found at a boutique in Eastsound. “You don’t look bad yourself. I love your haircut by the way.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He grinned at her. “Remember you sent me that pic of that boy band guy you like?”
Her eyes lit up. “You had your stylist copy it?”
Raj looked a little embarrassed. “Kind of. So you think I pull it off, right?”
“Totally,” Rani agreed. “Wait—that black T-shirt and gray jacket look a lot like what he was wearing, too.”
“Yeah well, you’re always teasing me about my video game shirts.”
“Teasing you is our thing,” Rani said, swatting the air as if swatting away the idea that she was being serious. “You know I secretly love your geek shirts.”
He perked up. “Yeah, I know. I just wanted you to admit it.”
Rani giggled. “Okay, okay, I admit it. I like your geeky T-shirts! I like it when you do the robot dance! I could live without the floss, though.”
He nudged her lightly. “Is that so?”
“Okay, whatever, fine. I think everything you do is hot. Including how you look in this leather jacket.”
“I aim to please.” Raj leaned in for a kiss.
Even their banter was perfect. Rani tried to keep herself grounded, but sometimes she couldn’t help but let her imagination run away with her. Raj was her prince, her captain, her hero in a Bollywood film. . .
EXT. BEACH COVE - EVENING
RAJ
My love is brighter than the moon and the stars. It’s wider than the entirety of the ocean. If an asteroid were coming to obliterate the earth, I would have no regrets. You are perfect.
RANI
Oh, Raj. I feel the same about you. Aren’t we the luckiest?
RAJ
Yes, I feel sorry for everyone else who doesn’t have a love as grand as ours.
(kisses RANI with a burning passion)
Rani kissed Raj as if an asteroid really was coming to Earth and they had only hours left to live. That was how she always kissed him.
When they came up for air, she said, “You know, our love story is truly epic. It’s as good as that new Olivia Lee movie, don’t you think?”
“The one you’ve made me watch three times?” Raj said. “Yeah, I think I remember it, but it’s a bit hazy.”
She elbowed him. “Just to be sure, we’ll watch it a fourth time tonight.”
“Actually, I meant I remember it perfectly. Every word.”
“You’re not getting out of watching it again.”
“But you said our love was better.” Raj raised his brows. “So why should we watch an inferior romance?”
Rani paused. Why should they watch an inferior romance?
And then she got
really excited. “Raj, you’re onto something, you know that?”
“I am?”
“Yes!” Rani said. “Instead of watching someone else’s romance, we should write our own love story! As a screenplay—and then send it to Olivia Lee. She’ll love it!”
Raj laughed, cuddling up against her. “Great idea, babe. But we could just lie out here under the stars and make out instead.”
“I mean, that does sound good.” Rani leaned in to kiss him again.
He had really nice lips. Soft and firm at once, plump and perfect for kissing. But her head was whirring. She had to share this story—she just had to!
“Okay, enough of that,” she said, pulling away. “Let’s go. We could totally write it this weekend.”
Raj groaned. “But what about all the other stuff you had planned? Kayaking? Berry picking? Going on a hike with your dads?”
“We can brainstorm while doing all that stuff. I’ll take notes. But I think we should at least write that very first scene—remember, when you showed up at the inn after a whole year without a single text?”
“I explained about the texts,” Raj said. “My parents were having issues.. . .”
“Yeah, I know,” Rani said. “But honestly, the whole year without contact thing made for good drama. Perfect beginning for our script, too.”
She started stacking the dishes and napkins and cups haphazardly back in the picnic basket. Raj, of course, took everything out and restacked the dishes so they all fit properly. Rani didn’t mind—she thought it was cute how much of a neat freak he was. She rolled up the picnic blanket in a ball. Raj handed her the repacked picnic basket and then folded the picnic blanket tidily. She rolled her eyes but seriously—his obsession was so cute!
As they hiked up the trail, she couldn’t stop talking about everything that would go into the screenplay. The ideas were flowing, slamming her like waves against a rocky cliff.
“Seems like you’ve got everything figured out,” Raj said. “So what do you need me for?”
She bumped his shoulder playfully. “Well, your first task is to find Olivia Lee’s email address.”
“I doubt she just has that publicly available.”
“Fine,” Rani grumped. “I’ll settle for her assistant’s.”
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