The haveli in Jaipur's walled city was quiet at 2 in the afternoon—the servants gone for their break, the son at his bank job until evening, the widowed father-in-law alone with his daughter-in-law for three empty hours every single day.

Sonali was folding laundry in the courtyard when she heard his footsteps behind her. She didn't turn. She'd stopped turning three weeks ago, when she'd first noticed the way Pratapji's eyes followed her, hungry and assessing, undressing her even through the layers of her saree.