logical approach she’d been practicing during the last few minutes. She’d make it sound nice and rational, even fall at his feet and beg if necessary. If all else failed, only then would she throw herself over the balcony. It would surely be less painful than death by incineration.
However, instead of sound argument her voice erupted in a high-pitched torrent of desperate appeal. “I d-don’t want to go b-back, Kiran! Please, please, don’t make me go back. I can’t—”
“Shhh,” he interrupted. “It’s okay, Megha.”
“It’s not okay! They want to burn me to death because my father can’t give them a dowry. Kiran, don’t tell them you saw me here…please…” Her voice trailed away and her brain froze once again. Kiran was one of them. It was no use wasting her breath pleading.
“Burn you to death!” His jaws clenched visibly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! Do you think I made the whole thing up?” Her heart sank even lower. He couldn’t even bring himself to believe her. Why would he bother to help her?
“But…killing in cold blood? My aunt and my cousin?”
She nearly punched him in the stomach for the look of disbelief on his face. “Do you think I imagined Suresh in the woodshed, preparing the wooden bed and pouring kerosene over it? Their talk about how Amma would explain my death—that I was supposedly picking up wood and the lantern tipped over and set me on fire?” A sob caught in her throat, making her voice come out raspy. “How dare you think I fabricated it, Kiran!” Angry tears came rolling down her cheeks and she brushed them away. “What else does burning Megha and finding a new wife with a big dowry for Suresh mean, damn it?”
Comprehension slowly replaced the shock on Kiran’s face. “Dear God! I didn’t think that horrid woman would sink to…murder!” He pulled the mobile phone out of his pocket. “That’s it! I’m calling the police superintendent right now.”
“No!” Megha yelled. “Y-you can’t do that! It will be Amma’s word against mine.”
“But you can easily explain what happened, Megha. We’re talking premeditated murder here, for God’s sake!”
“Who will the police believe—your aunt or me? She’s a very clever woman, a pillar of the community who can lie with a straight face. All I know is what I saw and heard; I have no proof of any kind.”
Kiran studied Megha thoughtfully for a second, then thrust the phone back into his pocket. “You’re probably right. Come here.” His thick, black brows settled in a scowl before he gently disengaged her hands from behind her back and held one of them in his own. He reached inside his pocket with his other hand to pull out his keys. “Let’s discuss this.” Unlocking the door to his flat, he ushered her inside.
With some reluctance she went in. At this point, what did she have to lose? Foolishly she had come here expecting the impossible. Within the hour she’d be shipped back to Amma’s house of horrors. And from there straight to hell, unless…she could…still jump off that balcony? Going up the stairs to the roof of the building would improve her chances of quick death. Anything would be better than perishing in a fire.
They stood in a small entrance hall. Megha’s anxious eyes fell on the interior of the flat. A night light glowed in the drawing room and she could see the outlines of a modern, comfortable-looking sofa, two matching chairs, and an oblong wood-and-glass coffee table.
Kiran shut the door behind them, pocketed the keys, and led her to the sofa. He turned on a floor lamp, flooding the seating area with light. She looked at the expensive upholstery and hesitated. “I better not sit. My sari is very dirty and I…uh…well, your sofa will be ruined.”
“Sit down, Megha,” he said firmly. So she did, conscious of the dirt on her clothes and wondered if she smelled as bad as she looked. Heaven knew what kind of filth from the streets and the
However, instead of sound argument her voice erupted in a high-pitched torrent of desperate appeal. “I d-don’t want to go b-back, Kiran! Please, please, don’t make me go back. I can’t—”
“Shhh,” he interrupted. “It’s okay, Megha.”
“It’s not okay! They want to burn me to death because my father can’t give them a dowry. Kiran, don’t tell them you saw me here…please…” Her voice trailed away and her brain froze once again. Kiran was one of them. It was no use wasting her breath pleading.
“Burn you to death!” His jaws clenched visibly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure! Do you think I made the whole thing up?” Her heart sank even lower. He couldn’t even bring himself to believe her. Why would he bother to help her?
“But…killing in cold blood? My aunt and my cousin?”
She nearly punched him in the stomach for the look of disbelief on his face. “Do you think I imagined Suresh in the woodshed, preparing the wooden bed and pouring kerosene over it? Their talk about how Amma would explain my death—that I was supposedly picking up wood and the lantern tipped over and set me on fire?” A sob caught in her throat, making her voice come out raspy. “How dare you think I fabricated it, Kiran!” Angry tears came rolling down her cheeks and she brushed them away. “What else does burning Megha and finding a new wife with a big dowry for Suresh mean, damn it?”
Comprehension slowly replaced the shock on Kiran’s face. “Dear God! I didn’t think that horrid woman would sink to…murder!” He pulled the mobile phone out of his pocket. “That’s it! I’m calling the police superintendent right now.”
“No!” Megha yelled. “Y-you can’t do that! It will be Amma’s word against mine.”
“But you can easily explain what happened, Megha. We’re talking premeditated murder here, for God’s sake!”
“Who will the police believe—your aunt or me? She’s a very clever woman, a pillar of the community who can lie with a straight face. All I know is what I saw and heard; I have no proof of any kind.”
Kiran studied Megha thoughtfully for a second, then thrust the phone back into his pocket. “You’re probably right. Come here.” His thick, black brows settled in a scowl before he gently disengaged her hands from behind her back and held one of them in his own. He reached inside his pocket with his other hand to pull out his keys. “Let’s discuss this.” Unlocking the door to his flat, he ushered her inside.
With some reluctance she went in. At this point, what did she have to lose? Foolishly she had come here expecting the impossible. Within the hour she’d be shipped back to Amma’s house of horrors. And from there straight to hell, unless…she could…still jump off that balcony? Going up the stairs to the roof of the building would improve her chances of quick death. Anything would be better than perishing in a fire.
They stood in a small entrance hall. Megha’s anxious eyes fell on the interior of the flat. A night light glowed in the drawing room and she could see the outlines of a modern, comfortable-looking sofa, two matching chairs, and an oblong wood-and-glass coffee table.
Kiran shut the door behind them, pocketed the keys, and led her to the sofa. He turned on a floor lamp, flooding the seating area with light. She looked at the expensive upholstery and hesitated. “I better not sit. My sari is very dirty and I…uh…well, your sofa will be ruined.”
“Sit down, Megha,” he said firmly. So she did, conscious of the dirt on her clothes and wondered if she smelled as bad as she looked. Heaven knew what kind of filth from the streets and the
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