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He pressed .
Today was her birthday. He had saved for a week, skipping the extra cup of tea, to buy a 1GB data pack. He had composed a single message: "Happy Birthday, Didi. We miss you. The paddy is growing tall."
He looked up at Bhola, his face wet, and smiled. "The tower is fine," he said, his voice thick. "It's working just fine."
The spinning circle returned. The tea stall owner, Bhola, glanced over. "No signal, baba. The storm has killed the tower."