The heavy wooden clock in the main hallway struck five in the evening. The grand gates of the Haveli creaked open as the elder Thakur’s white car rolled back into the courtyard. His important political meeting in the city was over, and his mind was now completely focused on the disturbing sight he had witnessed before leaving his son carrying the young peasant girl to his private quarters.

Inside the grand bedroom, Lila was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her knees pulled tight against her chest. She had spent the last two hours weeping silently, her hands smoothing over her crumpled dress. The heavy lock on the door finally clicked, and a maidservant entered quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.