The night after the knife carving felt even more dangerous. The Punjab haveli was full of sleeping people. Aryan’s parents in one room. Grandparents in another. Chacha snoring loud next door to chachi’s room. Everyone close. Walls thin. Any loud sound could wake them.

Anjali could not stay in her bed. Her boobs hurt from fresh knife marks — thin red lines of “ARYAN’S” still stinging under her thin nightie. Cum from last night leaked slow from her pussy. She felt hot and restless. She got up quietly at 2 a.m. Went to the small bathroom at the end of the corridor — the one everyone used.