Kriti nodded slowly. Ishani opened her eyes, and Vikrant appeared in her head—his face, his words, and his treatment of her. All things at once seemed to have sense. Her eyes were shut, and the tears that she had been withholding burst down her face. "Your shaking word," thought she. "How do you know it is him—the man I married?"

Kriti answered, All the news channels are busy discussing his marriage. How might I not know that the fellow you married and eloped with last night was he? I learned this morning through one of my colleagues. Her friend is also employed at the Fiction Hotel.

The same colleague, Kriti explained, informed me that Mr. Vikrant was going through the female staff, checking them all. He is seeking a girl with a scar on her back. When he said that, I knew he wanted you—you have that same scar. You should be glad you did not come to the hotel this morning; he would have known all about you at that very moment.

Ishani opened her weeping eyes and gazed at Kriti with tears streaming down, crying, Out of the whole world... why him? Why is my fate so cruel? The man I detest most—I got married to him! I do not like pompous men such as him. And on top of that, he's old! Now, what am I to do, Kriti? She sniffled and had to start sobbing once more.

Kriti put his hand on the cheek of Ishani and said, It is all right, Ishani. Nobody is able to struggle against destiny. And how should you have known that man was Mr. Vikrant? Don't stress about it now. That was not even a real marriage to you, right?

Ishani nodded, yet within her a feeling, a feeling that she did not want to accept or even to admit, was awakened.

Then make this in thy mind and heart—but that was not and must never be the marriage in thy life. Understand? And keep off that man—as far as you can.

Ishani nodded silently.

Kriti turned to the bag that lay on the ground and went on to say it was a good thing they did not search your room. Otherwise, it would all be over now, and we could not have done anything. She looked at Ishani in alarm and then fell on her knees and poured the whole bag onto the floor. Dresses and jewels spread all around. Kriti began to look through them to see whether anything had been overlooked.

At length Ishani also knelt down to assist her. After verifying all this, Kriti gave a worried look. And she stared up at Ishani and said, "Where's the mangalsutra, Ishani?"

The eyes of Ishani were opened. "It must be somewhere in there," thought she, and hastened to bury her nose. "I packed everything!" But the mangalsutra had disappeared.

Kriti's voice rose in panic. "Did you leave it at the hotel? Or did someone find it?"

Fear crept over the face of Ishani at her words.

Then Kriti hastened on, saying, "Finish this first, and then we will see what to do next." Ishani nodded nervously.

Kriti took a lighter out of her jeans pocket and lit the bridal lehenga on fire. There was a blaze and flicker in the dark. Ishani could not control the tears streaming down while watching it burn. Something in her chest was weirdly empty—as though she were being burnt with it.