And just as she was mid-rant in her head—slam!
Then—bam!
A violent jolt nearly sent her airborne, and then... silence. The cart stopped.
She blinked. Once. Twice. Then cautiously peered over the edge.
"What happened?!" she shouted.
From the front, the driver, who looked like he'd been through this a hundred times and still wasn't paid enough, wiped his brow and called out, "Madam! This is it! We can't go any further!"
Divya's soul sighed. Her body groaned. She slowly started to get down, limbs moving like rusted hinges. But the moment her foot touched the ground—WHAM!—a bolt of pain shot up her leg so viciously she almost rethought every decision that led her to this moment.
"AAHHH!" she winced, doubling over, looking like a sad pretzel. Half-bent, half-twisting, she hobbled over to the driver. "What do you mean we can't go further? You said you'd take me to the village! This is a dust field with attitude!"
