Saloni peered around the girl down to Geeta, who perched on a stool so low that she might as well have sat on the tile. “Where is this andolan coming from, yaar?” “I don’t know,” Geeta confessed. She supposed she was agitated. Karem’s words floated to her, about kids not questioning injustices. But what about when adults didn’t either? If the women were able to help each other commit murder because they felt it was morally right, then why couldn’t they help others being wronged, too?
