Chitra was a twenty-three-year-old girl from a cramped one-room house in the narrow lanes of Panipat. Her father drove an auto, her mother stitched clothes for pennies, and every month the rent, the electricity bill, and the little brother’s school fees sucked the life out of them. College had been a dream she buried long ago. She had a body that turned heads—full, heavy breasts that strained against any blouse, a tiny waist, wide hips, and a round, juicy ass that jiggled with every step. But beauty doesn’t pay bills.