The first rays of dawn painted the house in hues of gold and rose, but it was not the light that woke Durga. It was the profound silence where Rajesh’s warm, solid presence had been. Her hand stretched across the cool, empty silk of his side of the bed. A faint, sweet ache lingered between her thighs, a delicious reminder of the night’s surrenders. She smiled, burying her face in his pillow, inhaling his scent—sandalwood and musk and him.

A sudden, sharp curiosity pricked at her contentment. Jadibudi wisdom had unlocked a door within her; what other secrets did the wise woman hold? Slipping from the bed, Durga wrapped a light shawl around her nightdress and padded silently from the room. The Village was still asleep, the only sound the whisper of her bare feet on the cool marble floors.