The Wrong Woman

18. Mouna

"Not only do you come late but you now jeopardise the entire event," she'd exclaimed. "You're going to take over the small news story for now as a result. I hope you learnt your lesson."

I swallowed, the stares of people even behind the screen burning through my head. I had been humiliated by Raj before but this was different. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll do anything to fix this."

"I hope so. This is your job. You're one of my best anchors and I don't want to lose you." She handed me a file and gestured vaguely to it. "I want you to look over that file and get familiar with it. The words will come on screen anyway but I want you to know what you're talking about."

"Is...is this a part of what I'm supposed to do?"

"What kind of question is that, Rani? Because of you, I had to swap my anchors around. Aliyah is doing what should have been your segment so now you'll do hers. Go."

My throat felt as though I had drank my hot chai in the morning in an impatient effort to warm myself and instead, burnt myself. Because no matter how many times I tried to swallow down the prickles of nerves crawling up my stomach, it wouldn't work. It only got worse.

I tried to study the words and memorise it in my head. I have time, I told myself. It isn't going to be something I have to worry about.

But then ten minutes later, Tara came out and crooked a finger at me. "You're on."

Oh no. This was not going to be good.

I followed her inside, my feet moving on its own accord. The lady and the man had disappeared but I didn't think about them. Hands shaking, I forced myself to sit in the round chair; the white light blared right in my face and what seemed like hundreds of faces stared back at me, waiting for me to say something. Was I on TV now? Had we started? I couldn't tell.

My head spun.

My stomach twisted.

Before I could even process it, I had fallen.