Turned out, Hunter could and did, in fact, chase her out of the milk bar a second time. So, having nowhere else to go and nothing to do, Piyumi chose to waste away the rest of her afternoon by sitting on top of the monkey bars at her local park as she watched the first streaks of night stain the sky and usher in a rainfall. 

Time to go. 

Pulling up the hoodie of her bubblegum pink raincoat, Piyumi began the trudge back home. She took in a deep breath, enjoying the feel of rain splashing against her face. Getting out of the house had been a good decision. Her head felt lighter. Clearer. She was going to be just fine. Like her father had said, these things just had a way of working themselves out, didn't they? It’s not like she had to be hasty, anyway. She had all the time in the world for the rest of her life to begin. 

Piyumi stepped into the house just in time to escape a particularly insidious clap of thunder. Flicking on the living room’s lightswitch, her socks left wet patches in the carpet as she made her way to the couch. She knew that she should've shed her soaked clothes as soon as possible, but the growl in her stomach alerted her to more pressing needs. 

“Hey, Thatha?” she called out. “You done with dinner yet?” 

No answer. 

Well, that was weird. Piyumi checked the time on her phone, and belatedly realised that her father’s AA meeting had ended hours ago. Ever since the incident five years ago, Miyuru was adamant about keeping his whereabouts known to Piyumi at all times. If he was going to be out later than usual, he would’ve texted or called. He should’ve been home. 

So why wasn’t he?

Another clap of thunder. An inexplicable feeling of dread flooded Piyumi’s veins as she hit dial on her father’s number. That feeling increased tenfold when she heard the sound of Miyuru’s ringtone, faint in the midst of the heavy downpour but close by all the same. 

And it didn’t sound like it was coming from inside.

Piyumi burst through the front door, her phone still calling her father’s number as she rounded the corner of the house and ran towards the backgate. Miyuru’s ringtone grew louder and louder. 

Despite what every cartoon and children’s story seemed to say otherwise, rain had no colour. It wasn’t blue or cerulean or azure. It was meant to be clear and transparent. Nothing more, nothing less.

So why was the water pooling at the backgate red? 

No, that was a stupid question. Piyumi knew exactly why. With her past, how could she not? Thus, fully aware of the sight she’d be met with on the other side of the gate, Piyumi cut the call to her father and punched in triple zero instead. 

What she hadn’t expected, however, was the glinting knife protruding from her father’s chest etched with a cursive and stylised ‘M’.

When Piyumi was twenty years old, she was found guilty for the murder of Miyuru Perera and sentenced to life in prison. 

“M-my…l…” 

Piyumi had been here before. The scene of her father’s death was one she was unlikely to forget. While she had been to the place of Miyuru’s murder two years ago countless times in reality, this was only the third time she'd visited it in her dreams. 

She knew that what she was seeing wasn’t real, that this was some fucked-up illusion her brain was conjuring up to punish her even in her sleep. But that didn’t stop her from barking out frantic instructions to the emergency call operator on the other end of her phone as she knelt down beside her father.

“My…l…” Miyuru’s eyes were glazed and far away as his head lolled to the side towards the red lotus in his hand. Despite it all, he had managed to retain a firm grip of the drenched flower. “My…my…l…” 

This would normally be the part where Piyumi fell apart, where she would curl herself over her father and beg for him to be okay. Now though, all she felt was anger roil in her gut. After all these years, even in his final moments, Miyuru’s focus had been on her. It didn’t matter that Piyumi was the one holding him close — it was her mother’s flower in his hand, it was her mother he was crying out for. “My love,” her ass. What good was her love when it did nothing to save him? What good was her love when it did nothing to save her?

Piyumi’s eyes flashed open with the horned blare of an alarm. She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as pushed herself out of her cot. What the fuck was wrong with her? Was she really going to criticise the actions of a barely lucid man mere seconds before his death? How honestly and utterly terrible of her. 

Though, she supposed she should've been allowed some leniency. It had been exactly a year since she'd landed herself in prison, after all. 

It was hard to believe that there had been a time before all this, as if this single year had been stretched out to also swallow up the life Piyumi had led prior. Not that her life before even mattered anymore. She would never have the chance to return to it. Iron bars and deep green prison jumpsuits, that’s all that remained. 

Well, that was unless she had anything to do about it. 

One year. Piyumi had given herself one year for her false conviction to be overturned. But thirty hundred and sixty-five days later, there wasn't even a fucking whisper alluding to her innocence, and, honestly, how could there be? There had been an overwhelming amount of evidence against her — her prints on the knife, her history with Morpheus, the fact she had no alibi at the time of the murder, the sudden unearthing of her true role in the burglary of Hunter’s milk bar. The jury’s verdict had been unanimous. 

Guilty. 

With a single word, Piyumi’s fate had been sealed. Still, she thought. One year. She’d give herself one year. If there was no change, then…

Well then, there was nothing else to it, was there? 

“How are you guys?” Piyumi said into the phone connecting her to Waliyha and Hunter on the other side of the glass after taking a seat. “Did you enjoy your semester break?” 

Waliyha scoffed, the corresponding phone against her ear as she relayed Piyumi’s question to Hunter. “I wish. So. Much. Prereading. Although…” 

She snuck a glance at Hunter from the corner of her eye, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. “I suspect our friend here has had a slightly more interesting time.” 

Piyumi looked at Hunter quizzically as he flushed a bright red. She saw him whine what looked like Waliyha’s name, before the phone was unceremoniously shoved into his hand.

“I…” he hesitated, gaze flitting towards Waliyha’s smug face before he looked to Piyumi again. “I…have a girlfriend.” 

“What?!” Piyumi’s screech was so loud, Hunter had to move the receiver away from his ear. “Who?! When?! How?!” 

“Would you please quiet down?” Hunter hissed, looking like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. “Her name is Jane, I met her at uni, she asked me out after we had a group project together, and that’s all.” 

Ignoring the dirty look on the face of the guard standing nearby, Piyumi whooped loudly with glee. “Fuck yeah, Mr. Watson-Jones! Your first girlfriend, way to go!” 

“Yeah, well, she’s coming to my birthday party this weekend,” Hunter sighed. “You'll be able to meet her there-”

He stopped, eyes widening. Piyumi felt herself crumble a little on the inside, but she quickly brushed it aside and put on a face that was alight with laughter. “Wow, you’re having your 21st here, Hunter?” she chortled. “I can see why. The ambience, the atmosphere, the absolute banger of a vibe. Bloody unparalleled.” 

“Piyumi, I am so sorry. I wasn’t even going to have a party because it didn’t feel right, but Mum insisted and said it was a big milestone, and-” 

“No,” Piyumi interrupted with a fierceness that even surprised herself. “Don’t say things like that. You shouldn’t put your life on pause because of me. I am in here, and you are out there. The last thing I want is to drag both of you down with me.” 

A silence settled over the three at that. Piyumi pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep in. 

“I take it that your silence means that you didn’t find anything, Waliyha?” she said after a long while. 

Waliyha averted her gaze, jaw locked in frustration. She had cultivated quite the legal career over the last two years, taking up an internship at the Office of Public Prosecutions. While this would be an amazing feat for anyone, let alone a third-year law student, Piyumi wasn't surprised. Waliyha was the smartest and most ambitious person she'd ever known. The legal wunderkind had been working tirelessly to find a way to get Piyumi out of her bind over the past year, consulting numerous supervising lawyers and industry professionals and scouring cases and precedent for days on end. However…

“I’m sorry, Piyumi,” Waliyha’s voice wobbled as if she was on the verge of tears. “I’m really sorry.” 

Piyumi gulped down disappointment bubbling up her throat. The fact that she knew it was a longshot did not make it sting any less. 

“It’s okay,” she tried to smile reassuringly, putting her hand up against the glass. “You did your best. That’s all anyone can do.”