the second in command are the nana and nana mamma ( she thinks thats easier than saying nanima).
the third- the foster parents- aj and c!
so i might be the one who cries over spilled milk and mourn my life. but then i am the one who gets to walk with her in the first rain. and i get to see her scramble away from me and the umbrella and look the cloud burst straight in the eye. and my white chudidar and pretty kolhapuri chappals get splashed with every puddle along the way.
the father, the second and third in command would have wanted to be there for sure. knowing all of them they would have encouraged her to do worse.