Propped against the pillows, her hair tied into a bun, Ritu took a gulp of the milk-and-turmeric concoction her mother had brought her. As she stretched for a paper tissue to wipe the rim of the chipped Nescafe mug, pain shot through her shoulder and she grimaced.

"Still hurts?" Her mother sat down beside her.

She shook her head. "Much better."

"I can't believe you never told us."

Her parents had been content in the illusion of her blissful marriage; she hadn't ...