Heavy rain was pouring outside, its roar deepening the silence of that luxurious bungalow even further. Only two people were in the house today—Kavya and her stepfather, Vikram. Kavya’s mother had gone out of the city for two days for a family function.

Twenty-one-year-old Kavya, in whose eyes a strange mischief and the intoxication of youth always floated, was today intent on doing something big. A few months earlier, one night she had accidentally left her room door open and, while passing through the hall, she had seen Vikram and her mother in a very intimate state. That night, Vikram’s masculine and aggressive form had settled into Kavya’s mind. Since then, she had often begun weaving dirty and exciting thoughts about Vikram in closed rooms.