
We left that same night, creeping out despite the torches surrounding our home. Why they didn’t immediately make it our funeral pyre, I’ll never know. Maybe they wanted to give us a chance to show that we were still human.
That was something we were unable to do for them.
Our quintet stood watching the undulating flames from the hill overlooking Banawali. As one, those torches descended, the fire converging in an orgy to destroy the building.
Aunt Kali squared her shoulders, moving ...
Published on September 25, 2020 13:00