What parent wouldn’t have agreed? Thus, Ravi received a copy of the house, the land documents, and every deed.

Ravi asked me to go for a walk on the sixth day following the burial. I had no idea that day’s path would cut like a dagger. He said bluntly when his automobile came to a stop close to an auto stand on the Lucknow border:

— Get out. My wife and I can no longer keep you. From now on, manage on your own.
My ears rang, my head spun. I thought surely I misheard, but his hard stare told me otherwise. I sat frozen by the roadside near a liquor shop, carrying nothing but a cloth bag of clothes. That house—where I had served my husband and raised my children—was now no longer mine. I had no right to step back inside.

“Your