The phone rang four times, each second stretching into eternity. On the fifth ring, she answered.
"Hello, Shreeja," I said, my voice tense. But her reply stopped my heart: "Haloo, wo is tis?"(Hello, who is this) Mumbled words, a baby-like voice— is she drunk?

"Shreeja, it's me, Idhayan—your boss," I clarified. "Where are you now? Are you still at the club?" My concern spilled into the receiver. She hesitated, then whispered, "Hmm, Seeja wus seepng."(Shreeja was sleeping)