Ira returned with a tray of steaming breakfast, parathas, aloo sabzi, and a small bowl of chutney..

Her steps careful. She set it gently on the small table beside Devraj’s chair, her movements precise, almost rehearsed.

He was back on his wheelchair again.

“Here, sir.” she said softly, retreating two, maybe three steps back.

She didn’t even realize it, but that little distance was enough to twist something ugly inside Devraj. His fingers curled hard around the armrest of his ...