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naked together.
    “Priya? Oh, shit!” Guru covered himself.
    Priya stumbled back.
    Guru rushed toward her, grabbing at her arm with one hand, and holding his pants up with the other.
    “Priya, please listen. I’m sorry, I should have told you, but I was scared you wouldn’t understand, scared you’d blame me for Mala’s death.”
    Priya stared at him in horrified incomprehension.
    He began to speak urgently. “She was following me that day. I was going to meet up with Pratip—we have this special spot. I think she suspected I was seeing someone. I cut through the forest to throw her off my trail. I never expected . . . I never expected she would follow, that she would . . . die.”
    It was his fault? Mala was his fault. She’d confessed her fears to him, and he’d kept the truth from her, lied to her, cheated on Mala with . . . with, oh God, she couldn’t even think it. Tearing her elbow from his grasp, she turned and ran.
    Her heart was slamming against her ribcage, her mouth dry, she ran through the market and into the winding streets of the village where the moon was elusive, only then did she slow her pace. She stood, bent over, hands on her knees gasping for breath. From the corner of her eye she saw the shadow
    A huge black dog.
    Her eyes mimicked saucers as a scream bubbled up her throat.
    As if spurred by her distress the dog backed away, melting into the shadows.
    She waited, afraid it was a trick. Afraid that it was merely waiting for her to turn her back so it could pounce. Long minutes ticked by and nothing happened.
    Quickly she made her way home.
     
    She’d expected her parents to be asleep when she returned, but Ma was still up, Priya’s basket of mending at her feet, a lone lamp lit to guide her weary eyes.
    Ma’s smile faded when she saw Priya’s tear-streaked face. “Priya? What’s happened?”
    Priya opened her mouth to deny that anything was wrong, to make up a lie, but instead Mala’s face swam before her eyes, then Pratip’s naked back and Guru’s bare torso. The truth spilt from her lips like bitter poison.
    Ma’s outraged face shimmered as fresh tears cleared a new path down her cheeks.
    When she was done Ma led her to her room, tucked her into bed, smoothed her forehead, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Your Papa and I knew you had your heart set on him, but we always knew it couldn’t be; his family is way above our station. But this . . . I never dreamed. Poor Mala.” She retreated with a deep sigh, pulling the curtain closed behind her.
    Priya lay in the darkness, her heart choked with grief and loss, her mind clouded with confusion. She’d been certain of Guru’s affections for so long. Had loved him forever but hidden her feelings, because he was to be Mala’s. Mala had suspected, but she’d suspected Priya.
    How was this possible? Why would he do those things—things meant to be between man and woman—with Pratip?
    She ran through their recent conversations, trying to find a clue, some inkling that his affections lay elsewhere. Every word, every expression, and every nuance . . . it struck her then how Guru had referred to Mala. He had referred to her as “our dear friend.” Why hadn’t she picked up on that before? The argument that he and Pratip had in the forest . . . so much like a lovers’ quarrel, and the affection in Guru’s eyes when he’d looked at Pratip, the way he’d confided in him—it all made sense now.
    Ravi’s words came to mind. “He will never love you the way you love him.” Ravi had known. He’d tried to stop her from going to the temple that evening, tried to protect her from the truth. Had Guru known that Ravi was aware of his secret? Was that why he’d been so adamant she not speak with him? Had he merely be trying to protect himself when all the while she’d believed he was concerned about her?
    As her breathing settled, as her heart found its rhythm, her conscience awoke.
    Guru loved Pratip. She didn’t