By the fourth night, Chandni’s heart was restless. Her mehendi had darkened to a deep red, and every time she looked at her palms, the secret designs raj had drawn made her cheeks burn. The oil scent still lingered faintly on her skin, and the memory of the shared drink haunted her lips.

She thought maybe tonight would be gentler. But when her grandmother dressed her, Chandni realized this ritual would be unlike the others.