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his heavy jowls? In the droop of his mouth, a sorrow? Surely it was disillusionment she saw in the circles under his eyes.
    Nonsense. She was imagining things to suit her fancy.
    â€œTri!” Rajiv exclaimed, peering at her. His face, filled with incredulous hope, was young again for a moment before the years came rushing mercilessly back. “God, God, is it really you? No, don’t go, please, give me just a minute.” But he need not have begged. The special name he had coined for her had struck her at the core, rendering her immobile. “I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought of you. How I’ve imagined—hoped—that I’d see you again—” He stammered to a stop. Were those tears on his lashes? He still had those ridiculously long lashes, like a girl’s. “You must have been—must still be—furious with me—” He grasped her wrists with a suddenness that sent a wave of remembered fire up her body. He was kissing her hands, his lips on the pulse at one wrist, then the other. How long it had been. “I can see you’re happily married—with a lovely child.” There was hunger in his voice. “I don’t want to cause trouble. Just give me another minute of your time—a chance to apologize. To explain what they did to me. Please—”
    â€œDon’t,” Sabitri said. “My driver will be here any minute.” But her voice shook, and she did not pull her hands away.
    His words surrounded her like a dust storm. She could see Bela staring at him, openmouthed. Once in a while, she picked bits out of the roaring: Crazy with worry locked up at my uncle’s not even a phone ran away but they caught me taken straight to the wedding hated her for it hated them all—
    In the early months of her marriage, if Rajiv had come to her, she would have walked out with him. Even if he had not told her all this. She would have lived as his mistress, not caring if she blackened her family’s name beyond all salvaging.
    Granddaughter, here is my most terrible secret: even after I gave birth to Bela, I would have done it.
    She shook her hands from his grip. It was easier than she’d expected. He was a weak man, after all. She wished to say, You could have found me, if you had really wanted to. But it no longer mattered. Better to say, I love my husband . Because that—she was surprised to discover it—was the truth. How long had it been true?
    Finally she walked away in silence, Rajiv no longer worth wasting words on. Her chest was full of the new truth’s brightness. Emerging into the hot yellow sunshine was like being born. Under her fingertips her daughter’s shoulder bones were fragile, magical wings.
    There was the car, waiting, with someone in the back seat. Bijan. Her heart flung itself around her body. How long had he been there? What had he seen?
    But Bijan was exuberant with success. The morning’s meeting had gone excellently. He had negotiated a better deal than anyone had hoped. A significant bonus would be forthcoming. He had decided to celebrate by taking the rest of the day off. How would they like a trip to the Grand Hotel for ice cream, and then the zoo? He sat in the middle of the car like a king, his arms around them, beaming beneficently at his beautiful girls. Bela was telling Bijan about the dirty staircase and strange old lady who kept touching her hair and how hungry she was because the lady didn’t give them anything to eat, didn’t share even one of Mamoni’s delicious sweets. She might just starve to death before they reached the Grand. Sabitri rested her head on Bijan’s shoulder, weak with relief, and smiled at Bela’s theatrics. The child had widened her eyes and slumped on the seat, saying that she had to have three scoops of ice cream. Could she? Could she, please? How blessed Sabitri was to have this family. From this moment on, she was going to be the