8 hours ago
Mother's breath hitched when Rakesh emphasized "sleep beside her every night." The way his tongue curled around the words made my stomach twist. Father, oblivious, nodded eagerly. "What honor! To serve in such a fine household!" His enthusiasm triggered another coughing fit. Flecks of blood dotted his palm.
Mother's fingers trembled as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the same ear where Rakesh's teeth had left a scabbed crescent last week. Her eyes flicked between Father's hopeful face and Rakesh's smug expression, lingering on the way his gold chain disappeared into the sweat-damp collar of his kurta. The silence thickened like the monsoon humidity pressing against our walls.
"I..." Mother's voice cracked. She cleared her throat, clutching the neckline of her nightgown higher. "I'll need to think about it." The words came out stiff, like she'd rehearsed them while scrubbing last night's stains from her skin.
The teacup trembled slightly in Rakesh's thick fingers as Mother's hesitation hung in the air. His knuckles whitened around the porcelain, I saw the exact moment his patience snapped. A vein pulsed at his temple as he set the cup down with exaggerated care, the clink sounding like a warning bell. "Think about it?" he repeated, voice dangerously soft. His gold chain gleamed as he leaned forward, the scent of his coconut oil hair mixing unpleasantly with Father's medicinal odors. "What's there to think, Bhabi ji? Unless..." His gaze dropped pointedly to her collar bone, where his teeth marks had barely faded.
Father coughed into his ragged handkerchief, oblivious to the silent threat. "She's shy, Rakesh-ji," he wheezed, dabbing at his lips. "Never worked in a big house before."
Rakesh's smile didn't reach his eyes. He stood abruptly, making the chair screech against the floor. "I'll use your washroom," he announced, though we all knew he'd visited enough times to know its location. As he strode past Mother, his hip brushed deliberately against hers, a fleeting touch that made her flinch like she'd been burned.
The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, I moved. My bare feet made no sound on the cool tiles as I slipped outside into the humid night. Mosquitoes buzzed around the lone bulb above our gate, casting long shadows across the packed dirt yard. I positioned myself just beyond its glow, where the darkness swallowed me whole. The rusty hinges groaned when I pulled the gate open wider, an invitation.
Mother's fingers trembled as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the same ear where Rakesh's teeth had left a scabbed crescent last week. Her eyes flicked between Father's hopeful face and Rakesh's smug expression, lingering on the way his gold chain disappeared into the sweat-damp collar of his kurta. The silence thickened like the monsoon humidity pressing against our walls.
"I..." Mother's voice cracked. She cleared her throat, clutching the neckline of her nightgown higher. "I'll need to think about it." The words came out stiff, like she'd rehearsed them while scrubbing last night's stains from her skin.
The teacup trembled slightly in Rakesh's thick fingers as Mother's hesitation hung in the air. His knuckles whitened around the porcelain, I saw the exact moment his patience snapped. A vein pulsed at his temple as he set the cup down with exaggerated care, the clink sounding like a warning bell. "Think about it?" he repeated, voice dangerously soft. His gold chain gleamed as he leaned forward, the scent of his coconut oil hair mixing unpleasantly with Father's medicinal odors. "What's there to think, Bhabi ji? Unless..." His gaze dropped pointedly to her collar bone, where his teeth marks had barely faded.
Father coughed into his ragged handkerchief, oblivious to the silent threat. "She's shy, Rakesh-ji," he wheezed, dabbing at his lips. "Never worked in a big house before."
Rakesh's smile didn't reach his eyes. He stood abruptly, making the chair screech against the floor. "I'll use your washroom," he announced, though we all knew he'd visited enough times to know its location. As he strode past Mother, his hip brushed deliberately against hers, a fleeting touch that made her flinch like she'd been burned.
The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, I moved. My bare feet made no sound on the cool tiles as I slipped outside into the humid night. Mosquitoes buzzed around the lone bulb above our gate, casting long shadows across the packed dirt yard. I positioned myself just beyond its glow, where the darkness swallowed me whole. The rusty hinges groaned when I pulled the gate open wider, an invitation.
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