Chapter 16: The Sitting

On Sunday the front room of the house in Vasant Vihar held twenty-two people and no sofa cushions.

The cushions had been taken away, and white sheets were spread on the floor.

That was how the family sat when it judged someone.

The eldest uncle took the armchair at the head.

He was eighty, deaf in one ear, and he had never been wrong aloud.

Mira sat on the sheet at the far end with her back straight and her hands folded.

Nandini had asked to come and been told no.

She had sent a flask of tea in Mira's bag instead.

Rhea came in last.

She wore a plain white salwar and no bangles, and her eyes were swollen.

She sat on the sheet opposite Mira and did not look up.

A murmur went through the room, and even Mira felt it pull at her.

"We are here because the family has been broken," the eldest uncle said. "In one night. We want to hear it from the beginning."

"I will begin, Uncle," Rhea said.

Her voice was low and rough. She pressed her sleeve to her nose.

"I won't speak against Dev. What he said at the party, he said out of love for me. I know that."

"But I want you to understand how all this started. Papa's hand shakes now. He doesn't tell anyone."

Harish, at the side of the room, did not move.

"For two years he has asked me to sign cheques for him when it is bad," Rhea said. "I practised his signature because he told me to."

She wiped her face. "That page in my drawer is that. Only that."

"And the pawn slip?" said an uncle.

"I never saw it before the party," Rhea said. "I don't know who put it in that room."

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