The air in the Das family hall was thick with incense… and judgment.
Vikram Das sat rigid on the carved wooden chair, his jaw tight, while the family priest paced back and forth.
"She must be purified," the priest snapped. "This girl has defied the gods for years—touching the untouchable, feeding the cursed! The council is already speaking. If you do nothing, they will act."
Leena's fists trembled at her sides.
"I saved a life. That is no sin!"
The priest's eyes turned cold.
"She will drink the poison of trial… or be cast into the holy Ganges. If she survives, the heavens have spoken. If she dies…"
He let the words hang like a blade over her head.
From the corner of the room, Ram Sharan's voice slithered like a snake.
"Marry her to me. I will take care of this… disgrace."
Leena's blood boiled.
"I would rather die in the Ganges than be your wife!"
The priest gasped, scandalized.
The hall fell silent. Only the faint crackle of oil lamps filled the space.
That night, her father called her into his study. The warm glow of the single lamp flickered over his tired face.
"I cannot protect you if you stay," he whispered. His hand trembled as it rested on her shoulder.
"They will kill you, Leena."
Her chest tightened, but she didn't cry.
"I have a friend in the Tang dynasty," he continued. "A merchant who owes me his life. You will go to him. Leave tonight—before anyone notices."
Leena stared at the flame of the lamp.
Exile… or death.
She clenched her fists, heart pounding.
If this was the only path to survive… she would take it.
But somewhere deep inside, she knew that leaving tonight meant leaving her world behind… forever.