In the luxurious hotel suite, the golden afternoon sunlight had slowly turned into shades of orange and purple. Outside the window the city’s noise was growing louder again, but inside the room the atmosphere still hung somewhere between last night’s savagery and the soft comfort of the morning’s ointment. The crumpled sheets on the bed stood as silent witnesses to the countless moments that had stamped Vikram’s name onto Riya’s soul.

It was around five in the evening. Vikram had finished sleeping and now looked completely refreshed. He gently ran his fingers across Riya’s face; she was still deep in sleep. The ointment and the warm water had reduced most of the stiffness in her body, but her face still carried the exhaustion of a soldier who had just won a war.