The morning sun bathed the house in a golden glow as Bani and her brother stepped inside. Today was an unusual day—one of the rare times the hotel had given its employees a holiday. The weight of daily responsibilities was temporarily lifted, and even their father seemed more at ease.
Bani glanced at her brother, nodding slightly. It was the perfect opportunity. They had been planning this moment for days, and now, with their father at home and the hotel's worries set aside, there was no better time to take the first step.
"Appa," her brother called out, setting his bag down. "We were thinking… why don't we start the flower-selling business today?"
Their father, who was reclining in his wooden chair with a newspaper in hand, looked up in surprise. "Today?"
"Yes," Bani chimed in. "We've been talking about this for a while. There's no hotel work today, so we thought we should just get started instead of waiting any longer."
Their father hummed thoughtfully, setting the newspaper aside. "I see… It's a good idea." He stretched his arms, then smiled. "Alright, if you two are serious about this, I'll tag along. I'm free today anyway."
Both Bani and her brother exchanged glances, a bit surprised but also relieved. Having their father's support, even just for today, meant a lot.
"That's great, Appa," her brother said with a grin. "We'll need help setting things up at the market."
Their father didn't press "Good. Let's do it properly. If we're selling flowers, we should make it look professional. Do we have baskets? A weighing scale?"
Bani's brother scratched his head. "Uh… we might need to arrange those."
Their father chuckled. "Then let's get moving. First business of the family outside of the hotel. Let's make it a success!"
As the three of them left the house together, Bani felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was the first step toward something new. And even though she still had secrets to keep, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to move forward.
The truck rumbled to a stop at the wholesale flower market, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the early morning. It was 3 AM—Bani, her father, and Aman had arrived right at the peak trading hour. The air was thick with the scent of fresh blooms, mixed with the damp earthiness of discarded petals. Vendors shouted out prices, porters carried large sacks of flowers, and negotiations were happening all around.
Bani and her father didn't rush to unload the marigolds. Instead, they stepped out and took a slow walk through the market. Aman, trailing beside them, listened intently to snippets of conversations from buyers and sellers. The market rate for marigolds today hovered around ₹250 per kg, but they knew the price wasn't fixed—it all depended on negotiation.
Aman nudged his father. "Seems like some sellers got even ₹230 per kg earlier," he murmured.
His father nodded. "It's all about timing and convincing the right buyer."