She said, “You don’t have to call me mom, you can just call me Rashmi ji.”I was thinking how and why? She’s quite a beauty and dad is 20 years...older than her. Still, I moved on, settled in my old room upstairs. I started partying with my friends. It was over 2 months before we saw each other again. As I woke up from my hangover from Friday night, Rashmi was arguing with dad.I went down to see what’s going on.“Darling, I have to go to Singapore you know that, why don’t you come with me?”“So that. It's something we don't normally do with outsiders." But why," I asked."That will be explained at the proper time, Michael," Grandmother said. "Wehad better hurry. Andros is probably already waiting downstairs with thecar."*****Andros was Grandmother's driver. A short, balding man in a chauffeur'suniform. He didn't look too tough, but somehow, I got the feeling that thiswas not a man that I would want to get mad at me. Grandmother's car, on theother hand, was something that I just wanted. It. More

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