Amar steps down a stair. Mumma refuses again, louder this time. If he had not been there to witness it he would never have believed his mother could raise her voice like this against his father. “How much has to go missing?” “I want that safe out of my house,” she says. “Nothing of mine is going in there. Not one necklace. Not one penny. Nothing.” He can sense that something has broken in her; her face is contorted in a strange expression, there is a shrillness to her voice.
