How far would you go for your family?

Velamma poured tea. Jyothi passed the biscuits. No one mentioned the godown. No one mentioned the kerosene. No one mentioned the small fire that had been set in Suresh Seth’s car the night before—an anonymous act that had sent him fleeing from the city.

“No.”

The air in the Sharma mansion was thick, not with the usual scent of jasmine incense and cardamom tea, but with something heavier: a secret. Velamma stood at the kitchen window, her gold bangles clinking softly as she kneaded dough. Outside, her son, Sunil, laughed with his new bride, Priya. The sound should have brought her joy. Instead, it tightened the knot in her stomach.

Three weeks had passed since the "incident"—the night the family’s debt to the ruthless moneylender, Suresh Seth, had been settled by a terrible bargain. A bargain Velamma had struck with her own body. She had told herself it was over. A single sacrifice. A closed chapter.

“Clever girl,” he smirked. “More beautiful than your mother. This will be a pleasant month.”

Velamma pulled away. “It’s nothing. The pressure of household work.”